Chuck vs the Forgetful Spy
by Costas TT
Summary: AU. Chuck wasn't expelled from Stanford. He left on his own, having important reasons for doing so. Five years down the road, his quiet life is turned upside down by the sudden appearance in it of a woman with a mysterious past. A past neither of them knows how dangerous it can be.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again, everyone! I'd originally hoped to begin posting this new story in early October, but I wasn't able to do so for a variety of reasons, not least among them a major revision to the entire plotline, title change for the story and serious rewriting of this first chapter. Well, serves to teach me not to attempt to schedule things like that again. Anyway, this story will be updated weekly, as usual. All disclaimers apply, no betas were hurt for this and it was inspired by a couple of movies. The title should make the first one rather obvious, but the other one might be a little trickier. I'll stop here so as not to ruin the surprise. This first chapter is a bit short, but consider it an introduction of sorts. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Five years ago, Stanford University<span>

A tall, lanky, curly haired man placed another neatly folded shirt inside the travel bag on his bed and looked for the next item. Not finding it in the immediate vicinity, he decided to ask his roommate about it. "Hey Bryce, have you seen my…? Bryce?" Just then he realized that he was all alone in the room. "Damn," he muttered and resigned to finding the item himself. Finally, a few minutes later, his bags were all packed and ready to be loaded in the Ford Bronco he'd borrowed from his father.

His friends were all gathered in the living room/recreation area of the frat house and they were all very, very quiet. "Seriously, guys, what's with the long faces?"

"Like you have to ask, Chuck," Pete, a sophomore, replied. "Throughout the history of Gamma Delta Phi, not a single member ever dropped out."

"Who told you I'm dropping out?" Chuck asked, letting his bags drop to the floor. The matter was serious and he needed to clear the air.

"That's the impression we got," Bryce replied, with Pete, Ed and Mac all nodding in agreement.

"OK, let's make something clear. I am NOT dropping out. Seriously. I'm a member of this fraternity as much as the rest of you. I'm aware of the traditions and the standards I have to live up to. So, I had a little talk with Professor Fleming. He helped me and the faculty administration find a mutually beneficial solution."

"What the heck are you talking about?" Bryce asked.

"Simple: instead of dropping out, I'm taking a long sabbatical. This way, I'm still a student and eventually I'll come back to finish the last twelve credits and get my degree."

"So… you're dropping out without actually dropping out?" Mac cut in.

"Yes. You see, I have this thing about leaving stuff unfinished, my studies included. Guys, it's just good business."

"Well, it's something, I guess," Ed shrugged. The others nodded in agreement.

"I was still hoping we'd all graduate together though," Bryce grumbled.

"Dude, relax," Chuck said. "I'll definitely attend your graduation and, when the time comes, invite you all to mine. This way you get to enjoy two graduation parties instead of one." The word _party _did the trick. He smiled. "You guys mull this over while I load my stuff in the car," he said and left. Outside, he ran into someone familiar. It was Jill Roberts, Bryce's bespectacled brunette girlfriend who was majoring in biochemistry.

"Chuck! So, it's true then?" Her eyes had gone wide upon seeing his luggage and her expression turned from shock to anger. "Bryce told me you're dropping out. Are you out of your mind? I thought getting a degree from Stanford was a lifelong dream for you."

He chuckled, but quickly stopped as it only made her angrier. "Jill, I'll have you know that Bryce and the rest of the guys have already given me the lecture."

"And you're still leaving. That's it! I'm calling Ellie. Maybe she can knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

Chuck cringed. Ellie – his older sister – was still in the dark about his plans. In fact, just one more family member was in the know. If his sister got wind of it ahead of schedule it could turn downright ugly. "Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, Jill. Let me explain first."

"What's to explain? You're dropping out, aren't you?"

"Not exactly," he hurried to explain, seeing the cell phone already in Jill's hand. "Professor Fleming helped me square things with the University administration. As of today, I'm on a sabbatical. Once my business is running smoothly and turning out a good profit, I'll get back to finishing my studies here and get my degree. I've only got twelve credits left, anyway."

"You still haven't told Ellie, have you?" Jill asked with a knowing smirk on her face.

"I've only told my Dad and he's OK with it, provided I do as I said and eventually get my degree."

"So basically you're planning to present Ellie and your Mom with a fait accompli."

"Basically," he nodded in agreement. He still dreaded facing their wrath, but at least his father would be right there with him in the doghouse, at least until his mother came around and saw things from their point of view. He only hoped it would happen fast, but he wasn't really worried. His Mom had a knack for knowing good business opportunities when she saw them and this case was no different as far as he was concerned.

"Does Bryce know?"

"Yes. I explained everything to them, just like I explained everything to you now. He's still trying to come to terms with it, but I think he understands." He smiled. "Besides, the lure of two graduation parties, one for him and the guys and one for me, was too good to ignore."

"Guys," Jill huffed. "Who else is in the know? Morgan?" Morgan had been Chuck's best friend since the first day of kindergarten. The two were practically brothers.

Chuck laughed. "Are you kidding? Morgan can't keep a secret that big. Ellie would have been informed of it within an hour, tops, in which case my head would have ended up detached from my shoulders. I also haven't told Devon yet. He would support me, most likely, but I don't want him to be uncomfortable keeping such a secret from Ellie."

Just then his frat buddies came out to bid him goodbye. "Bro, I'm still not sure I agree with you on this, but do us all proud, you got it?" Bryce said and hugged Chuck.

"I can do more. You'll all get free lifetime memberships plus other perks should you decide to sign up."

Once they were done with the goodbyes, Chuck got in the car and started the engine, his mind already working on improving the plan he'd hatched about telling those not yet in the know about his decision.

-o-

"Thank you Morgan," Mary Bartowski said warmly to the short bearded man in a green polo shirt and khaki cargo pants as he maneuvered the hand trolley out of the way after positioning a heavy looking and bulky item in the kitchen. She reached for her wallet to tip him, but he shook his head.

"No need for that, Mrs. B," he said. "You're family."

"You did all the hard work," she reminded him.

"Thanks to you I'm the salesman of the month at the store, even though I work part time there," he smiled. "There is a nice bonus coming my way."

Mary paused to admire her new hi-tech stove. The old one had broken down the other day just as she was preparing to host an important dinner party. Fortunately, a neighbor had let her use her stove, but the very next day Mary had driven down to the Burbank Buy More and purchased a new one. Morgan had already moved the old worn out stove to the garage, where Mary's husband would strip some parts he needed from it, for one of his contraptions. A familiar sound of a car engine made them both look at the driveway.

"Mr. B is home early," Morgan commented.

"I may have mentioned you'd be coming, so he probably wants to see you."

"It's Chuck!" Morgan exclaimed. "What's he doing here? He should be in Stanford."

"Let's find out." She led the way to the two-car garage. Chuck had just put the Bronco in park and jumped out.

"Hey guys," he said with a bright smile when he saw his mother and his best friend. "I see you finally got the new stove you told me over the phone last night, Mom."

"I did," she confirmed. "And Morgan has been of great help."

"He always is. How's culinary school going, buddy?" His friend always wanted to be a chef, so he was taking classes at a good school while working part time as a Buy More salesman to support himself.

"I'm having trouble flipping the shrimp," Morgan admitted. "But otherwise I'm doing great. What are you doing here? Don't you have classes to attend?"

"Not for a while," Chuck replied. "Something came up."

"Is something wrong?" Mary asked, suddenly worried.

"Mom, everything is fine," her son hastened to reassure her. "Better than fine, in fact," he added. "Remember the project I was working on over winter break?"

Mary nodded.

"Well, to cut a long story short, I found some people willing to invest some venture capital to get it rolling. It's about to become a reality. Dad had a lawyer friend of his help out with the contracts." He took a dramatic pause. "Mom, you're looking at a new Internet millionaire."

"I'm so proud of you, Chuck!" Mary squealed, wrapping her son in a tight hug, which Morgan joined as well.

"Well done pal," he told Chuck. "If you need a sous-chef for a party to celebrate, I'm in."

"All in due time, little buddy. There are a few things to take care of first."

"Like signing the contracts?" Mary asked. "I'll get your suit out."

"Thanks Mom, but the contract signings are just a small part of the job. I'll have to get everything up and running, because once the deals are done I'll be on a deadline."

Mary was the first to see a potential problem. "What about Stanford? Finals are in a few months."

"About that… well…" Chuck stammered, desperately trying to remember his well prepared and rehearsed speech.

"Charles Irving Bartowski, you didn't drop out of school, did you?" She'd heard a lot of stories about young people dropping out of school to start new businesses and she didn't want that to happen to her son, no matter how lucrative the new job appeared to be.

"Um, no?" Chuck replied hesitantly. "I mean, not exactly." Seeing her narrow her eyes at him, he quickly proceeded to elaborate. "I talked it over with Professor Fleming and we found the best formula for the situation. Based on his suggestion, I went to the University administration and applied for a sabbatical. The application was approved this morning, effective immediately. I can go back and finish my studies any time I want. Besides, I've only got twelve credits left."

Mary crossed her arms and tapped a foot on the concrete floor of the garage. "Does your father know about this?"

"I may have told him what the new job entails. But he said it's OK as long as I keep my word and go back to school once my business is running smoothly."

"Huh. I'll have a nice long talk with both you and your father later about the need to keep me informed of such matters, but for now I only hope you'll get your degree one day, like you promised."

"You know me, Mom. I hate leaving things unfinished," he tried to reassure her. Then he turned to Morgan. "Not a word about this to Ellie, OK? I want to break the news to her myself." Chuck was very much relieved as he saw how well his mother was taking it. Of course, he and his Dad would be in the doghouse for a couple of days, but it was nothing they couldn't live with.

-o-

Ellie Bartowski, however, was another matter. The moment the word 'sabbatical' left Chuck's lips, she grabbed hold of his ear and twisted it – painfully. "I hope you're just pulling my leg now, Charles Irving Bartowski," she ground out.

"Ow! Sis!"

"Babe," Devon began, trying to rescue Chuck from Ellie.

"Not now, Devon." She turned back to Chuck. "Well?"

"Let go of my ear. I'm not six any more."

"Really? You could have fooled me." But she let go anyway.

"She wanted to become either a teacher or a doctor," Chuck told Devon, as he was rubbing his hurting ear. "Ellie, I'm serious. This is what I wanted: to make a good living by designing computers and programs."

"This is no reason to drop out of school," she pointed out. Seeing him about to object, she amended her statement. "OK, OK, _temporarily_ interrupting your studies. Can't you do both at the same time?"

"I thought about it, but it's impossible to work on the project within the contract specified timeline and make the mandatory attendance in Stanford. I only have twelve credits left, anyway, and I've completed the more important classes."

"Did you tell Mom and Dad?"

"Yes, and they agreed with my reasoning. Mom took a little convincing, but Dad was behind me all the way from the start."

"Well, you're an adult, although occasionally that merits some debate. Do what you have to do, but be warned. I'll be reminding you of your promise to go back to school and get your degree." And there the discussion ended. Aside from his reddened and throbbing ear, Chuck had managed to come out of the conversation intact. For his part, Devon was glad that an intervention on his part to save his girlfriend's brother had not been required. Now, the ball was in Chuck's court. He had to prove to everyone, and by everyone meaning his family and closest friends, as well as himself, that he had made the right choice. He was determined to succeed in the new business, generating a hefty income for himself and equally hefty returns for his investors, as well as get his degree from Stanford at the earliest opportunity.


	2. Chapter 2

WOW! I was definitely floored by the warm welcome you gave this new story with your reviews, favorites and alerts. I really can't thank you all enough for it. This timely update is merely a small token of my appreciation for your support, even though finding time to write turned out to be a tad difficult this week. I hope you'll enjoy it.

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><p><span>Present day<span>

Devon used his key to enter Chuck's apartment. Even five years later, it still amazed him how fast Chuck had made enough money to not only buy his own apartment, but the next door one for his sister as well. Sure, him being a cardiothoracic surgeon and Ellie being a neurologist weren't minimum wage jobs, far from it in fact, but it would have still taken them a while to save enough for such a place, deposit and mortgage payments included. And he did appreciate the gesture.

Making his way to Chuck's room, he wasn't surprised to find him fast asleep. He'd been working late the past week, as his company was on the verge of launching a new site. Still, it was time to head out. "Chuck," he said, shaking the younger man's shoulder. "Wake up."

"Huh? Devon? What time is it?"

"Still quite early, but late by your standards," Devon replied.

Chuck shot up and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Shit, I overslept!"

"Dude, what are you worried about? Didn't you tell Ellie over the phone yesterday that you didn't have to go to work today?"

Chuck blinked several times, trying to come fully awake. "Um, yes… Yes, I did! We launched the site, so I'm free for the day."

"Perfect. Get changed. We are going for a run."

This made Chuck pause. He took a good look at Devon. His sister's boyfriend was dressed for a run: sweats, iPod and running shoes. "I'll stay here, if you don't mind."

"I don't. Ellie does. She told me to take care of you."

"She's not here though, is she? She's in Nashville for a convention of some sort," Chuck pointed out.

"About the convention… it was cut a bit short."

"How short?"

"Ellie-is-on-a-plane-home-right-now short," Devon replied. "Therefore, you need to at least appear to be engaging in some sort of exercise when she gets here."

"All right, all right," Chuck said resignedly. "Just give me a couple of minutes to change and I'll be right out." He was as good as his word. Within minutes, he was dressed in his favorite black Stanford sweatpants and a Stanford t-shirt. "Let's go," he said simply when he rejoined Devon in the living room, strapping an iPod to his arm.

Devon nodded. "I'll go get the car."

"The car?" Chuck echoed. "Aren't we going to the park for our run?"

"The run will have to wait a little," Devon replied unhelpfully. At Chuck's raised eyebrow, he decided to elaborate. "I have some paperwork to drop off to a patient, who happens to be a good colleague's father. He lives in Palos Verdes, so I thought we could go there before our run." Just then his phone chimed, announcing an incoming text message. He read it and smiled. "Mr. Wyatt wants me to meet him at the Palos Verdes Beach & Athletic Club. Let's go, Chuckster." He led the way to the car, typing a quick reply on his phone.

The drive from Burbank to Palos Verdes didn't take long. They avoided the worst of the morning traffic thanks to an app Chuck had uploaded to Devon's phone, so they knew in real time about traffic conditions and which route to take in order to avoid jams. They were about halfway to their destination when Ellie called. She had promised to call the moment her flight landed. The car's Bluetooth picked up the call and Devon pressed the button to answer it.

"Good morning, El," he said cheerfully. "How was the flight from Nashville?"

"It was OK," Ellie shrugged. "Mom is picking me up for breakfast as we agreed last night, so I don't need you to come. She'll also drive me to the hospital for my shift."

"Good, because I'm heading to Palos Verdes right now. The Chuckster is with me. We'll be going for a run once I drop off some paperwork."

"Say hi to Mom for me," Chuck cut in.

"Will do, little brother." There was no mistaking the glee in her voice at learning that her boyfriend had kept his word about not letting Chuck slack off on his workout schedule. She talked to Devon about some household stuff for a little while and then wished them both a good day before ending the call.

"Ellie thinks you work too hard, bro," Devon said suddenly as he kept on driving.

"She shouldn't worry," Chuck said dismissively. "I haven't been neglecting myself or anything."

"It's not that. She's started nagging again about Stanford."

"Again?" In Chuck's opinion, this had become something regular, following a pattern. Every once in a while, Ellie would remember his unfinished business with the university and get on his case about it.

"Yes, again," Devon nodded. "Bro, it's only twelve credits. Do something about it."

"Six," Chuck mumbled.

"Come again?"

"Six," he repeated. "I only have six credits left to go."

"Then what happened to the other six?"

"I've completed them."

"You never said anything. Not to me, not to Ellie and I don't think you've even told your parents."

"I didn't tell anyone because I want it to be a surprise. But I'd like to put your mind at ease, especially since you're the one in a unique position to help by keeping my sister off my back."

"OK. How did you do it?"

"I signed up for online courses. It wasn't easy fitting them into my schedule at first, but I managed to do it. I still had to put in some long hours at the office, but it was totally worth it."

"Huh. I understand why you kept it a secret from all of us, but when did it all happen?"

Chuck smiled. "It began last year, right after I'd managed to finally pay off my original investors and secure my position as the sole owner of the company. I had no outstanding financial obligations, any and all expenses could be covered by the profits and then some, so… the rest is history."

"Everyone would be delighted to know about this, bro."

"I considered telling you guys, but somehow I think it would have only made things worse. Take a right here."

"OK. What do you mean by worse?"

"You know, Mom and Ellie especially would have put more pressure on me to get my degree as fast as possible… maybe Mom not so much, because she understands what running a business entails."

"Can't fault your logic here," Devon conceded as he made another turn, following the directions given by the GPS. For the rest of the drive, he and Chuck exchanged stories from work. He told a particularly hilarious story about wheelchair racing in the hallways of the pediatric ward, something he had organized to cheer the kids up, while Chuck regaled him with the story of how he'd come up with the idea for his latest online game.

Before long, they were walking towards the main building of the Palos Verdes Beach & Athletic Club. Devon gave his name to the receptionist and she informed him that Mr. Hutchinson was waiting for him by the pool. They followed her directions and didn't have to look too long to find him.

"Hey Doc!" The man who called out to Devon was a well-dressed man in his early sixties. "Over here. Want a cup of Joe? It's my treat."

"A coffee would be nice, Mr. Hutchinson, thank you," Devon replied. "This is Chuck Bartowski. Chuck, meet Mr. Henry Hutchinson."

"Call me Hutch. Everyone does. You with the hospital too, Chuck?"

"Um, not really. I do some volunteer work for the hospital, helping with their website, databases and electronics, but I run my own business. In fact, Devon and I are going for a run later."

"You live healthy. It's good for you."

"If only Devon and especially my sister were less pushy," Chuck grinned.

"Ah, that's why your name sounded so familiar. I take it the nice Dr. Bartowski I met the other day at the hospital is your sister?"

"The one and only," Chuck confirmed.

"Let's get down to business, Hutch," Devon said after some more small talk over coffee. "I'm sure Hank has already told you a few things about…"

Hutch cut him short. "Junior is a great ophthalmologist, but he absolutely sucks at the cardio stuff. That's why I'm gonna need you to explain a few things, OK Doc?"

Devon managed to suppress a grin at the way Hutch referred to his son, whose full name was Dr. Henry D. Hutchinson Jr. and being called Junior instead of Hank was kind of irritating to him. "Sure. I'll start at the beginning then. Before you got discharged, I told you about the immediate things that you needed to pay attention to. Now, moving on to the long-term stuff…"

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I need to visit the men's room, so I'll leave you two to talk in peace." He got up, went inside the main building and easily found the men's room. After taking care of business, he went back outside and walked alongside the railing overlooking the ocean, admiring the view and enjoying the light breeze while listening to the soothing hiss of the waves on the rocky shore. When he reached the corner, he stopped for a moment and let his gaze travel slowly from Point Dume to the Northwest all the way down to the Southwest where the curve of the shoreline where the Neighborhood Church was built blocked the field of view in the direction of Flat Rock Point. Suddenly, he did a double take, as he thought he saw a flash of color among the rocks about a hundred and twenty or so yards away. Curious, he fished into his waist pack for his Smartphone and the clip-on lens. He had both a telephoto and a wide angle lens, both being his Dad's creations. Stephen J. Bartowski made a nice living inventing stuff and licensing out the use of his patents. He selected the telephoto, clipped it on over the camera lens and focused it, increasing the magnification.

What he saw made him gasp. He still had the presence of mind to snap a quick photo before running to where Devon and Hutch were still talking. "Excuse me," he said, remembering to at least be polite. "Devon, get up."

"We were done here anyway, but where's the fire?"

"That way," Chuck replied, pointing in the general direction of what he'd seen. "And this is the proof," he said, thrusting his phone into Devon's hands.

All Devon had to do was take a single look. "Crap! Hutch, do you have a doctor or nurse or lifeguard on duty in the club?"

"Normally yes, but since the pools are not yet open for the day…"

"I'll need a first aid kit and a stretcher."

Hutch nodded, finally understanding what the rush was all about. "I see the manager. He's a friend and I'll get him to help." They quickly brought the man up to speed and he was very helpful, directing them to the first aid supplies, telling them the fastest way to get to that specific part of the beach and volunteering to call an ambulance.

"Hutch, stay here and wait for the paramedics. Chuck and I will take care of the rest."

"No problem, Doc, go do your thing."

Devon had complete faith in Chuck. After all, he and Ellie had given him considerable training in first aid and he could definitely help, provided the person on the beach wasn't beyond medical help.

"There!" Chuck yelled, moving nimbly even though he was the one carrying the stretcher and reaching the person sprawled among the rocks first. Now he could see it was a blond woman. It was simply dumb luck that he'd spotted her. He cast the folding lightweight stretcher aside and felt for a pulse, just like he'd been taught to do it. "Devon, I've got a pulse," he announced.

"That's good. Unfold the stretcher and help me get her on it."

Together the two men executed a textbook transfer and then moved the unconscious woman away from the surf line. Once on the dry part of the rocky beach, Devon directed Chuck to put down his end of the stretcher and then knelt to examine the injured woman. She was very pale, had a gash on her temple and by the condition of it he estimated that she'd been in the water for several hours. This ruled out temporal bleeding, as it would have been fatal after so long. On several places on her body, where it wasn't covered by what he determined to be a high-end sports bra and shorts set, of the kind many wore as swimwear or instead of wetsuits when going surfing, he could see bruises and cuts, which he attributed to the rocks.

"Well?" Chuck asked worriedly.

"She's one damn lucky lady," Devon replied. "She's still breathing, she's got a pulse and I see no outward signs of internal injuries. We need to warm her up, too. Get the blanket from the kit. It should be either blue or looking like a folded piece of foil."

"Got it!"

"Wrap her up, but be careful not to jostle her."

"I know. You taught me, remember? By the way, I can hear sirens from the road. Maybe it's the ambulance."

It was the ambulance. Rather than wait for the paramedics to get down there, Chuck and Devon carefully carried the stretcher up to the road. There, they transferred the still unconscious woman to a gurney, while Devon, in full doctor mode, fired off instructions and supervised as a paramedic hooked her up to a heart monitor and another gave her an IV.

"Which hospital are you taking her to?"

"Westside Medical," replied the paramedic. "I know it's far from here, but the nearest ERs are swamped after an accident involving two buses not half an hour ago, so all non-immediately life threatening incidents are referred to other hospitals. Unless you want to classify it as a life-threatening emergency, we've been instructed to transport the patient there."

"It's OK. I work at Westside."

"Excuse me, sir," an LA County Lifeguard Service officer said. "Since this incident happened in our jurisdiction, I will need you to give a statement."

Devon fished in his waist pack for a business card. "Here," he said, handing it to the lifeguard. "You can contact me either directly or through the hospital."

Chuck also handed over his business card without having to be asked for it.

"He's the one who noticed her down there," Devon explained. "Chuck, I'll ride with the ambulance to the hospital. You take my car and meet me there."

"Okie-dokie. I'll also give my statement." He was as good as his word. He quickly proceeded to explain how he'd come to notice the woman in the surf and even sent a copy of the picture he'd taken to the lifeguard's tablet. The other man in turn assured Chuck that he would inform his colleagues to keep an eye out for a car, a beach towel, a surf board, or anything that might belong to the blond woman.

-o-

Meanwhile, somewhere in the DIA building in Washington DC, a hulking black man in a tailored suit and a petite redheaded woman wearing an Air Force Brigadier General's uniform were going over some reports.

"Are we sure this was an accident?" CIA Director Langston Graham asked.

"I got the transcripts of the radio communications between the aircraft and Edwards, as well as the initial statements from the survivors," General Diane Beckman said. "The pilot in his last transmissions declared an inflight emergency due to a fire in the cargo compartment. The loadmaster reported that the fire initiated in a cargo pallet."

"It wasn't sabotage then."

"Doesn't look like it. I'll have people cross-reference the loadmaster's statement with the cargo manifest and see if we can figure out what went wrong. What about the search and rescue effort?"

"Luckily, the submarine USS Asheville was in the area and COMSUBPAC ordered her to assist with the rescue effort. Navy and Coast Guard air and surface units were involved, as well as Air Force helicopters and fixed-wing aircraft, and fortunately merchant traffic was kept out of it."

"I imagine it would raise a lot of questions if a merchant ship came across an occupied pod," Graham mused.

"Speaking of pods, how did the unit fare?"

"It could be worse. The pods are self-contained and reasonably crash-resistant, but there were still casualties. I have the summary here. Thanks to the pilots, who managed to ditch the aircraft just as all elevator and rudder control authority was lost, most were recovered intact with their occupants in good shape, even though some needed immediate medical attention." He paused, handing over a report to the General. The plane had broken up on impact with the water, but it could have been much worse. "Two sank due to crash damage, but their locators functioned and we were able to recover the bodies. One just disappeared and I'm afraid we have to consider its occupant dead. Officially, she'll be listed as missing and presumed dead. I've instructed my people to keep an eye out for reports of unidentified bodies recovered from the sea in local morgues. Notification of next of kin is in progress."

"The loss of Dr. Busgang is going to be a blow to the U Project," Beckman pointed out.

"Fortunately, it won't be as bad as we originally feared. The operation was also a success. I reckon we won't find it difficult to recruit new volunteers in order to bring the unit back to full strength."

"Maybe, but it will take time until it's fully combat-ready again. At least we won't have to lie to the families of the dead about how they lost their loved ones. I always hate when I have to do it. We'll just leave a few details out."

-o-

It was midday by the time Chuck drove Devon's car to the Westside Medical Center staff parking lot. Since he volunteered there regularly, the staff knew him, so he was able to get in without a fuss. He found Devon in the doctors' lounge. He'd changed out of his workout clothes into scrubs and a white coat.

"Chuckster," Devon greeted him.

"Here, Captain," Chuck said, tossing him the car keys. Devon caught them deftly. "I see they shanghaied you for duty even on your day off."

"Nah, I told them I'd stay. I'll get the weekend off, which is awesome because Ellie will also be free then."

"How is the patient doing?"

"Well, she had a dislocated shoulder, bumps, cuts and bruises, including a nasty one on her head, but thankfully no internal injuries. She also had a moderate case of hypothermia, but she's all right now. Ellie has taken her for an MRI. They should be wrapping it up about now, if they haven't already."

"Good to know. Has she woken up yet?"

"No, but we are not worried, at least not yet. We will start to worry if she doesn't wake up in the next few hours."

"When can I see her? I know it sounds stupid, but I kind of feel responsible for her."

Devon grinned. "It's only natural to feel that way, bro. You should be proud of yourself, but I think you already are, subconsciously." He drained his coffee and set the mug down. "Come on. I'll take you to see her."

Chuck followed Devon to a room in one of the hospital's wards. The blonde was in a bed and she looked a lot better compared to when he'd first found her. Color had returned to her face and she appeared to be resting comfortably. Ellie was making notations on a chart.

"Hey Chuck," she said, smiling brightly. "Devon told me all about what happened this morning. You did well, so congratulations."

"Thanks sis. How's your patient."

"She should be waking up soon."

As if on cue, the blonde in the bed stirred and groaned. "My head," she grumbled, almost inaudibly. With some effort, she opened her eyes and managed to focus after blinking several times. "Where am I?"

"You're in Westside Medical Center. I'm Dr. Bartowski, Ms…" Ellie began.

"I don't… I don't know who I am," the blond woman replied, her eyes going wide as saucers as she began to realize the implications.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again! The story continues with certain developments concerning one woman still without her memory. As usual, I'd like to thank you all for your continuing support. I'm really happy to see you enjoying the story so much.

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><p>"I don't know," the blonde repeated, the shock and worry as clear in her voice as they were in her facial expression. The beeping of the heart monitor quickened as her heart rate spiked. She looked to be on the verge of a panic attack.<p>

"Hey, easy now," Ellie said soothingly, placing her hands on the other woman's shoulders and gently pushing her back down on the pillows. "It's okay. You're still a bit disoriented from the concussion you suffered when you hit your head."

The blonde's hand reached up and probed the bandage covering the wound on her temple. Following Ellie's instructions, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing until her heart slowed down to its normal rate.

"That's better," commented Devon. "El, you're the neurologist here. What do you think?"

Ellie thought for a moment. "We'll have to wait and see, but it could be a case of focal retrograde amnesia. The head trauma alone would be enough to cause this and combined with everything else…"

Their patient interrupted her. "What everything else? What has happened to me?"

Devon took over. "We think you went swimming or surfing some time yesterday afternoon." He paused and nodded in Chuck's direction. "Chuck here noticed you among the rocks on the Palos Verdes shore this morning."

"You have several bumps, cuts and bruises, as well as a dislocated shoulder, which is back in place now," Ellie said, taking her turn to speak. Since you spent the night in the water, you also had a case of hypothermia. You were really, really lucky to have survived until Chuck saw you on the beach. Another hour or two and it would have been too late."

The blonde looked at Chuck. "I guess I should be thanking you for saving my life."

"Don't mention it," Chuck said modestly. "It was more dumb luck than anything else. I just happened to look your way."

"Well, thanks again anyway. What's next?"

"Try to get some more rest," Ellie told her. "Maybe your memory will return then, maybe not. In any case, I'll touch base with the Lifeguard Service and the LAPD and see if they found anything of yours. Someone may come and talk to you about your accident later today."

"Okay," the woman nodded. Just then, a clearly audible rumble from her stomach reminded them all that she needed to eat.

"I'll have a nurse bring you something," Ellie said. "Contrary to the general rule, the food here is excellent. Devon here once treated the owner of one of the best hotels in LA. He didn't like the food during his stay here, so, when he got discharged, he had his chefs come up with a more palatable menu using the materials available to the hospital – with excellent results."

"By the way, what's on the menu today?" Devon queried.

Ellie checked her watch. "Lunch time is coming up in about an hour, so it's noodle soup with bologna and cheese sandwiches, chef's salad and fruit. There's also an excellent beef stew for dinner." She turned to her patient. "You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

"Um…" she thought for a moment before huffing in frustration. "I can't remember!"

Ellie decided to make a notation on her chart. "I'm putting you down for an allergy test if your memory doesn't come back soon. The nurse will stay with you while you eat, just in case you are allergic to any of the ingredients in the food."

"OK, thanks, Doctor."

"In the meantime, I'll see what I can do to tide you over until lunchtime," Chuck said.

"Thank you, but you don't have to," the blonde said.

"Getting you a pretzel and a coffee from the cafeteria is no big deal. I'll be right back."

Ellie patted the other woman's knee. "That's my little brother," she said. "Always eager to help."

"In that case, does he have any memory recovery tricks up his sleeve?"

Devon chuckled. "He can recover data from damaged or wiped hard drives, but since you're not a computer, I think he won't be able to do much. Sorry."

"It didn't hurt to ask."

"You still need some rest, but later I'll come back with some cognitive tests I'd like you to take. They will determine a few things about you and the extent of your memory loss."

The woman nodded. "What will happen then?"

"We are still waiting to hear from the lifeguards and the LAPD, like I told you earlier."

"With any luck, I'll have a car parked close to a beach and they'll find it, so at least I'll know my name."

"It's a beginning," agreed Ellie. "Assuming, of course, they actually come up with something. I mean, you could have taken the bus to the beach. But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"If you ladies will excuse me, I need to see a couple of my patients," Devon said.

"Do your job, I'll do mine and we'll all be fine," Ellie smiled. She turned to her patient. "Go ahead," she said simply.

"Excuse me?"

"I know the look on your face, sweetie, you have like a million questions to ask. So, shoot." Ellie grinned encouragingly at her.

"Well, yes, I do have questions, but where do I start?"

"It doesn't really matter," shrugged Ellie.

"Still, I don't want to bother you too much."

"Honey, I'm your doctor. You don't have anyone here, so it's kind of my job to answer any and all questions you might have."

Just then, Chuck entered the room, carrying an extra large Styrofoam cup of coffee in a cardboard holder and a paper bag. "Just like I promised, coffee and a pretzel," he smiled at the woman in the hospital bed, handing the items over.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, accepting the items and taking a sip of the coffee. She immediately regretted it. It was black and bitter, far too so for her taste. Fortunately, Chuck had had the presence of mind to put a couple of packets of creamer and a few small packets of sugar in the holder. She stirred in the creamer and added the sugar, stirring the beverage with the plastic swizzle stick he had so thoughtfully provided. Then she tried again. "Mmmm, this is a lot better," she sighed in contentment. "I owe you."

"No you don't," he said. "It's on me." He felt Ellie nudge him with her foot and when he looked at her she gave him a meaningful look. "I think I've interrupted some confidential doctor-patient talk. If you ladies will excuse me, I'll leave you to it."

"No, please don't leave on my account," said the blonde. "Besides, your sister has already told me a few things about my condition. You were here, too."

"Yes, I remember. And I'll stay if you so wish."

"Thank you." She turned to Ellie. "Now, doctor, you mentioned the possibility of focal retrograde amnesia. How long does it usually last?"

"It's impossible to predict," Ellie replied honestly. "Your memory could return, fully or partially, in hours, days, months, years, or… never." She paused, noticing the other woman's disappointment at the vagueness of the reply and the possibility of never regaining her memory. "But I can tell you a few things about you."

The amnesiac woman's face lit up with guarded hope. "I'm all ears."

"When you were brought here, we ran a full battery of tests, including X-rays and MRIs. They were quite informative."

"Go on," she urged Ellie.

"We found a remodeled fracture on your left arm. An orthopedic surgeon postulated that you fell off a bike when you were about ten to twelve years old."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't ring a bell."

"Don't try too hard to remember. I'm just stating facts here."

"OK. Sorry for the interruption, please continue."

"There are also several remodeled microfractures on your arms, hands and feet. They are an indication, together with the robustness of your muscle attachments and your generally excellent physical condition, of intensive physical activity, such as martial arts, rock climbing, swimming…"

"She was wearing top of the line swimwear when Devon and I found her," Chuck pointed out, interrupting his sister. "He said it is usually worn by people who are serious about their exercise."

Ellie smiled and continued like she hadn't been interrupted. "You don't appear to be a smoker or anything more than a casual drinker. There were no traces of any drugs in your blood work either. Aside from your most recent injuries, you are the picture of health."

"But what if I can't remember who I am?"

Chuck cut in, attempting to reassure the woman. "There is the possibility of the police finding something. And then, even if they come up dry, someone is bound to report you missing. At the very least you will learn who you are."

"Now drink your coffee before it gets cold and enjoy your pretzel," Ellie said. "I have to do my rounds, but I'll be back with the cognitive tests we've discussed. Also, try to get some more rest. Come on, Chuck."

"Right behind you," he assured his sister.

"Don't be a stranger," the blonde told him. "The way I see it, I owe you at least one dinner out."

"Since you want me to, I'll come visit you again," he promised.

She gave him a bright smile.

-o-

Langston Graham took a deep breath to steady his nerves before knocking on the door of a hotel room in Baltimore.

"Coming," a voice called out from inside and the door opened to reveal a tall white man in his fifties. He was wearing a nice suit, his graying brown hair was neatly gelled and his blue eyes glinted behind his rimless glasses. His face immediately fell when he recognized Graham. They'd met a long time ago, but it hadn't exactly been pleasant.

"Hello Jack. May I come in?"

"Are you here to do a repeat of our first meeting?" Jack snarked.

"No. Listen, we need to have a serious talk and your doorway is no place for it."

"I've been out of the game for a while, so in all likelihood I can't help you."

"Jack, I'm here for an entirely different reason. In fact, it's about your daughter."

"What has my daughter have to do with the likes of you?"

Graham took another deep breath and spoke: "Back when I first met you, I also met her. She impressed me sufficiently to make her a job offer, which she accepted."

"She came to work for you?" To say that Jack was shocked would be a gross understatement. "Why am I learning of this only now?" Then it dawned on him. "How is she?"

"Jack… Did you hear about the plane crash in the Pacific yesterday?"

"Yeah, I saw it in the news. It was a military plane and… Sarah was on it?"

"I'm afraid so, Jack."

"Where is she?"

"We, um… we don't know. She's missing. There is a massive search still going on, but it's a recovery operation now, not a search and rescue one. I'm afraid she's gone. I'm so sorry, Jack, but considering the circumstances…"

Jack sat heavily down on the bed. "How did this happen? Start at the beginning."

"She came to work for me after graduating from Harvard. She deserved the scholarship she earned there, by the way."

"Sarah was always brilliant academically."

"When she got her degree, she attended our own special school, again graduating at the top of her class. What she did for us is classified, but in this case I can tell you she was part of the team that rescued the hostages in the Philippines."

Jack had heard about the hostage drama and its successful conclusion, but had no idea his baby girl was involved in it. "She was coming home when the plane crashed?" His voice was breaking as he asked the question.

"Yeah… I was going to give them all a nice long vacation. We are going to hold a memorial service for the people we lost in the accident. I will email you the details when everything has been finalized, in case you want to attend."

"We'll see about that."

"I'll be going, then. And, Jack? She was one of my brightest students. Losing her hurts me as much as it hurts you."

"Thanks for coming to tell me in person. I'll let you know if I'll be able to attend."

"You are welcome. Again, you have my sincerest condolences."

When Graham left, Jack picked up the phone and canceled the appointment he'd been about to go to before Graham's visit. Suddenly, a thought hit him. _What am I going to tell her mother? It's my fault she got that job. In a way, I'm responsible for her death…_ For a while, he just sat there, looking at an old picture of him with his daughter. She'd still been in high school back when it was taken and she sported a mouth full of braces, which however in no way diminished the brightness of her smile. The girl in the picture bore a definite resemblance to a woman who was currently a patient of Dr. Eleanor Bartowski… resemblance, as in being a younger version of the amnesiac patient. And there, in the peace and quiet of his hotel room, Jack allowed himself to break down and grieve.

-o-

"Well, girl, you aced every single test," Ellie told her patient. "This tells me you have had a good education, you may have even gone to an Ivy League college."

The blonde – Sarah, but no one including herself knew that yet – toyed with a pen. "Still, it's no use. How can this help us one little bit to find who I am?"

"Look on the bright side. Only your episodic memory was affected. You may not remember anything about your personal history, but you are a fully functioning person. Had your procedural or muscle memory been affected, it would have been a lot worse."

"Worse, how?"

"You could have ended up like Harrison Ford in Regarding Henry."

The blonde gave her a pointed look, but said nothing.

"Right, no episodic memory, sorry… It's about a guy who had to learn how to walk, talk and generally be an adult from scratch after being shot."

"Ouch. That would have been awkward."

"Yep. Being essentially an infant in an adult body is no fun at all, unless you are my little brother and his buddies. I swear they act like toddlers sometimes." Ellie's smile belied her words, though.

"Don't be too hard on your brother. He gave me the impression of being a very nice guy. Plus, he basically saved my life."

Outside the room, a woman in a professional black pantsuit and a white shirt was talking to a nurse, who pointed her to the room where Sarah and Ellie were. She knocked, coming to the attention of the other two women. Sarah sized her up. She was tall, though not as tall as she was, had black hair and her lipstick was a bit too bold for her pale face. She also glimpsed a badge on her hip.

"Hi, I'm Detective Alexis White, LAPD," she said, introducing herself.

"I'm Dr. Eleanor Bartowski, the attending," said Ellie.

"I would introduce myself, but I have no idea who I am," added Sarah.

"That's what I'm here about," said Alexis. "The lifeguards and beach patrols didn't find anything that might belong to you on the beaches within reasonable distance of the Palos Verdes shore. We struck out with the parking lots, too. There were no vehicles left in them from yesterday noon to now."

"Then she must have taken a bus or parked elsewhere," Ellie mused. "What about missing persons reports?"

"You must understand, it's too early for a report to be filed. Of course, if anyone who wishes to report your patient (Alexis scrupulously avoided calling her a Jane Doe) missing and told the front desk officer that she'd gone swimming would have been immediately invited to fill in the report."

"What does this all tell us so far?" Sarah asked.

"There are many possibilities. One, you may be living alone. Two, it's possible that you are running your own business, if you are actually employed."

"She must be," interjected Ellie. "Her swimwear and watch are top of the line."

"Whatever the case, our hands are pretty much tied without a missing persons report. Other than that, the options are quite limited."

"But there are options," said Sarah, latching onto Alexis' words.

Alexis nodded. "I could take your fingerprints and run them through the system. Even if you don't have a criminal record, they might be on file. Also, I'd like to take a picture of you and run it through the DMV database. If you have a California driver's license, we'll find it."

"Those options sound good to me." Sarah nodded in agreement.

"The final option would be to release your photo to the media, with your consent of course, with a request for information on you."

"Is it advisable?" Ellie asked.

Alexis shrugged. "It's what I call the last resort option. There are too many whackos, perverts and con artists out there who might try to take advantage of your patient's situation. It's been used before, but it's not something I would unreservedly recommend."

"I agree with you in keeping it as the very last option," Sarah said.

A knock on the door made all three women look up. A young man holding a potted plant, a get well balloon tied to one of the stems, smiled politely at them. "Flower delivery," he said.

"Who is it from?" Ellie asked.

"There is a card here," Sarah noticed. She plucked it from among the leaves and opened the small envelope. "_Unfortunately, something came up at work, so I couldn't deliver those in person. I'm pretty sure you still haven't figured things out, otherwise Ellie would have called to give me the good news and tell me not to worry about you. And since no hospital room looks right without flowers, I took it upon myself to make it happen. Your friend, Chuck._" She looked at Ellie, her blue eyes brimming with tears. "Your brother is quite something."

"Sign here please, ma'am," said the delivery guy, holding his clipboard out to Sarah. Before Ellie could intervene, she'd scrawled something on the dotted line.

"Wait, you remembered?" Alexis blurted out.

Only then did Sarah realized what she'd done. "Holy crap," she muttered, awed.

"Muscle memory," exclaimed Ellie and clapped her hands together. "You've signed your name so many times, it's incorporated into your muscle memory," she explained for the benefit of Sarah and Alexis.

"So, she can sign her name without remembering it?"

"Yes, Detective. We were looking for a place to start. Well, we've got one!"

"Be sure to tell Chuck to drop by. His wonderful gesture gave us a lead and I'd like to thank him for it," said Sarah.

Ellie grabbed the clipboard from the delivery guy's hands. They noticed his nametag for the first time. His name was Frank. Alexis also leaned over to look. "Well, your first name is Sarah," Ellie told her patient. She nodded in reply, even though her own name didn't ring a bell.

"I concur," Alexis agreed. "But the last name isn't quite as legible."

"Hm. You're right." She showed it to Sarah.

"Sorry for my chicken scratch," she said contritely.

"Do you mind if we keep this?" Alexis asked Frank.

"I'm not really sure. It's only my second day on the job," he admitted.

"Never mind. I'll just take a picture of it with my phone."

After Frank left, Ellie and Alexis sat on either side of Sarah on the bed, holding Alexis' phone with the signature magnified on the screen. "Let's go over the possibilities," suggested Ellie.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** One more time, a heartfelt thank you to all of you for the way you've embraced this story. Your questions, remarks and suggestions, whether in your reviews or by private messages have been interesting and keep me on my toes.

For this chapter, I also needed to do considerable research in order to make it as realistic as possible, but without detracting from the story itself. When I googled "legal status of amnesiacs" the very first result turned out to be a treasure trove of information, which incidentally lent weight behind the solution I had in mind. It also revealed the existence of a real case as well as a TV show, both hitherto unknown to me. Look them up if you like. By the way, the muscle/episodic/procedural memory things were borrowed from the Castle episode "The Fifth Bullet".

For now, enjoy the new chapter!

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><p>Indeed, going over the possible interpretations of the surname Sarah had scrawled on the delivery log was the best course of action. When they were done, Alexis would take it to the precinct with her and search for women named Sarah, with L as a middle initial, with those surnames and also try and run a facial recognition and fingerprint search. Sarah had also agreed to allow Ellie give Alexis her dental X-rays, just in case the detective was able to find any potential matches.<p>

Sarah took a notepad and pen from the nightstand and got ready to start jotting down the possibilities.

"I think I'll start," said Ellie. "Watts," she suggested. "It's kind of unlikely, but…"

"Say no more," said Sarah, writing down the name.

"Williams," suggested Alexis.

Sarah took her cue. "Also Wilson, Walters, Wills… that thing at the end might just be a flourish… or maybe Willis."

"What we read as a W could also be an M. Miller, Milton, Mills," continued Alexis.

"Good idea," agreed Ellie. "I'll stick with W for now, though. Walton, Walker, Weston, Webster."

The three spent some time trying to come up – and writing down – any surname even remotely having a chance of matching Sarah's scrawl. In the end, none of them could come up with anything else. Fortunately, Ellie had not been paged throughout the time they'd been busy. A nurse interrupted their talk about what was going to happen next by bringing Sarah some food. Ellie and Alexis encouraged her to dig in. The nurse had also brought antihistamine pills, just in case Sarah had an allergic reaction to anything.

"You weren't kidding," said Sarah after the first few bites. "The food is really good."

"Glad you liked it," said Ellie with a smile. "Detective, what's going to happen in case you come up dry?"

"Frankly, I don't know, exactly," Alexis admitted. "But if Sarah here doesn't regain her memory by the time she's ready to be discharged, it's possible that she'll have to become a ward of the state, at least temporarily. I know a judge in Civil Division, and I think it won't hurt to ask for his opinion."

"Detective, thank you for everything," said Sarah. "I know you must be busy and you were still willing to spend so much time helping me."

"I'm between cases right now and this has been a refreshing change," the detective smiled. She then picked up her stuff and left, after promising to keep them both in the loop about any developments in the case.

Once Alexis left, Sarah turned to Ellie. "Something Detective White said has got me thinking. When am I going to be discharged? It's not that I don't like it here, but…"

"Honey, I understand perfectly. This is a hospital, not a hotel. It stands to reason you'd be eager to get outta here. To answer your question, I'd like to keep you here at least tonight, for observation. I don't think your head injury is going to cause any long-term issues…"

"Aside from the memory loss," Sarah grumbled, interrupting Ellie.

"Of course," she smiled, not missing a beat. "But due to the concussion you've suffered I believe we should err on the side of caution."

-o-

"Well?" Alexis asked the tech, who was running the facial recognition software.

"Nothing," he replied.

"You couldn't find a match?"

"Your Jane Doe may not even be from this State," he explained. "Her fingerprints aren't in any database, which means that she doesn't have a criminal record and she isn't in any occupation requiring them to be on record either. Likewise, the DMV has no record of any Sarah L. matching the photo you provided."

Alexis huffed. "Looks like we'll have to wait for a missing persons report, and if she's from out of state, it will have to be forwarded to us from another department. Can't you run the possible last names?"

"What good is it going to do? We couldn't find a match with her picture and first name, and we are sure about those. You came up with about a score of potential last names for her. It's going to take time going through them all."

"I understand. She did strike me as a nice person and I'd have really liked to be able to help her. Plus, I don't like my cases going cold."

"Detective, you did everything you could," the tech pointed out. "Besides, there is always a chance of the lady regaining her memory."

She just grunted something in agreement, but privately she wasn't so sure. Dr. Bartowski might be able to give a more informed opinion, but in the end it looked like she might have to call an acquaintance over in Social Services and defer the case to her.

While they commiserated over their failure, they couldn't know that they'd just fed a little too much information into the system. Had they entered only Sarah's photo, the computer would have found a close match, a brunette San Diego resident named Jennifer Burton. But since the search parameters included a name, it automatically chose to ignore the similarity. They also couldn't have known that her fingerprints were only on record with the CIA, whose databases they had no access to. Dental records were a bust as well, since they didn't have anything to compare them to.

Likewise, at the CIA headquarters in Langley, Langston Graham was also getting negative reports. No morgue along the California coast had reported floaters matching the missing agent's description. His people were still monitoring the reports and would keep doing so for a few more days, but if nothing came up during that time, it was clear nothing would come up ever.

-o-

Sarah woke up when one of the nurses who was making the rounds of the ward entered her room.

"Not a morning person, I see," she remarked cheerfully.

Sarah just grumbled something and sat upright.

"How are you feeling?"

"The headache is gone," Sarah replied honestly. "My shoulder still feels a bit sore, but I must have slept on it wrong or something."

The nurse nodded as she made a notation on Sarah's chart. "Everything looks good. I'll talk to Dr. Bartowski about getting your discharge paperwork ready. In the meantime, you could go to the dining room for breakfast. Moving around will do you good."

"Fortunately, I still remember where it is," Sarah replied with a smile. She swung her legs out of bed, wincing as her bruised left thigh protested the movement, but ignored it and shoved her feet into the hospital provided blue ballet flats style slippers. The white dotted blue gown she was wearing was fortunately designed for maximum comfort and modesty, so she didn't have to make sure her back side was covered.

"Hold on a second, sweetie," said the nurse. "I have to check your bandage first."

She sat obediently on the bed while the nurse carefully unwrapped the bandage, inspected the head injury and taped a fresh gauze pad in place.

"There. It looks better than the turban you had on." She held up the long bandage to drive the point home.

"Feels better, too," Sarah said, running her hands through her hair, trying to comb it into some semblance of order. She asked the nurse if she could take a shower. The reply was positive and she was also given waterproof wrappings for her injuries. She thanked the nurse again and after a quick shower took a leisurely walk to the hospital's dining hall. The results of her allergy test had come up negative, so she could eat anything. It was busy, but took her tray and managed to find a seat at a table next to a teenage girl with a cast on her right arm. "Here, let me help you," she said politely, seeing how the girl had difficulty cutting open and buttering a muffin without full use of her dominant hand.

"Thank you ma'am," the girl said shyly but politely.

She smiled. "Call me Sarah. Ma'am makes me feel old."

"Juliet," the girl introduced herself. "What are you here for?" She immediately regretted the question as she noticed that Sarah appeared to have been beaten up.

"From what I've been told, I'd gone swimming or surfing and somehow washed up on the Palos Verdes shore."

"From what you've been told?" This wasn't domestic abuse, Juliet thought. No, it was something really, really cool from her perspective.

Sarah tapped the gauze pad on her temple. "The head injury caused memory loss."

"Oh, I see. Well, I broke my arm trying to run up some stairs with a heavy backpack. I lost my balance and fell. It sounds stupid, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe I did something stupider to end up here. My doctor said that I too had broken an arm, but it was probably due to a bicycle accident when I was even younger than you."

She spent her time in the dining hall with Juliet, enjoying their breakfast and chatting. It somehow felt very refreshing.

-o-

There was nothing interesting on TV, which was just as well for Sarah. She preferred standing at the window and looking outside. Not remembering anything about Los Angeles was kind of annoying, but she enjoyed watching the hustle and bustle of the city.

Ellie interrupted her reverie. "Sarah?"

She turned, hearing the familiar voice. "Yes, Dr. Bartowski?"

"I've got your discharge paperwork ready. It is my considered belief that you are good to go, but if you feel any nausea, dizziness or disorientation, I advise you to seek medical attention immediately."

"Understood," she said.

"Good. Detective White called earlier and said that she referred your case to someone from Social Services and she'll be here any minute to talk to you."

Sarah just nodded. She hated the feeling of helplessness that came with the memory loss, but she resolved to deal with it.

"I also brought you this," continued Ellie, holding up a small travel bag. "You are just a bit taller than I am, but my clothes should fit you nicely. Since all you had on was your swimwear, I figured I could lend you something to wear."

Sarah eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, really. You've already done a lot for me and this… this is just…"

"Hey now, can't have you walking around in this hospital gown… or your sportswear. You can change behind this privacy screen here. Oh, and you can keep the gown and the slippers."

"I don't have anything else to sleep in, so they'll have to do, I guess. Give me a couple of minutes to change and I'll be right with you." She took the bag with a grateful smile and went behind the screen, emerging just a couple of minutes later wearing a blue t-shirt, a pair of nicely fitting jeans and sneakers. Ellie had also thoughtfully provided socks and an unopened pack of cotton underwear. She'd put a black zip-up hoodie inside the bag as well, but Sarah chose to leave it there until it was needed. "How do I look?"

Ellie took a step back and appraised her patient's appearance. "You look, well, normal."

"Normal is good. I could go with normal."

"Well then, come with me." Ellie led Sarah to the small office she shared with another doctor. There was a dark haired, brown eyed woman there, waiting patiently. She had a professional pantsuit on and a briefcase. Ellie proceeded to make the introductions. "Sarah, meet Ms. Prince from Social Services. Ms. Prince, meet Sarah."

"Call me Sydney, Sarah," said Prince. "Detective White was kind enough to give me a full rundown on your case. It's interesting, because the people with no recollection of their identity I usually have to deal with are suffering from either dementia or Alzheimer's. You, on the other hand, are the first one with actual, trauma-caused amnesia to require my assistance, because there are absolutely no leads as to your identity. I'm sorry to give you the bad news, but Detective White wasn't able to come up with anything helpful."

Sarah was predictably disappointed, but she took it gracefully. "Well, at least she did everything she could. I need to thank her for her efforts sometime soon. So, what's next?"

"Ms. Prince will explain some things to you. While she does, you just sign these papers here and you'll be free to go. Don't worry about the bills, as your situation warranted a waiver."

Ellie and Sydney told Sarah everything she needed to know regarding the immediate future and she listened attentively, while she mechanically scrawled her signature on the discharge papers.

The moment she was done, Ellie snatched them up and began scrutinizing them. She put them down with a sigh. "I thought it was worth a shot."

"I don't follow," said Sydney.

"I was trying to see if Sarah could make her signature to be more legible, but no dice."

"That's why you were both talking to me while I was signing these?"

"I didn't want you to focus too hard on trying to improve the legibility of your signature. I was hoping you'd do it mechanically."

Sydney had been told about the signature thing, so she wasn't surprised, although it was certainly interesting to be seeing it with her own two eyes. Before she could say anything, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in!" Ellie called.

"Hey sis," Chuck said cheerfully. His smile got wider when he noticed Sarah. "Hi there, Sarah." He knew her name because Ellie had told him about the latest developments the previous evening.

"Hi Chuck," she returned the greeting with just as bright a smile and got up to give him a hug. "Thanks for the flowers," she added, pointing to the potted plant at her feet by the travel bag. "They were a big help."

"Not enough though, not from what I hear."

"Don't beat yourself up over this. If anything, you help speed things up. This is Ms. Prince from Social Services," she introduced Sydney. "She was given my case."

"Ms. Prince," he said politely, nodding in Sydney's direction and holding out his hand.

"Mr. Bartowski," she said, shaking his hand.

"What brings you here, Chuck?" Ellie asked.

"Um, Devon called me. One of the machines in Cardiology was acting up and he asked me to take a look at it. Turns out it the problem was just a jammed cooling fan. It's fixed now. How are things with Sarah?"

"Ms. Prince is going to take me to see a judge and see what can be done since we have no clue as to my identity," replied Sarah.

"Can the judge help?" Chuck addressed the question to Sydney.

"Detective White from the LAPD and I believe it's possible. It's a unique kind of case and input from a judge could be most helpful."

"Oh, OK." Then a thought came to him. "Will Sarah need any kind of legal representation?"

"I can advocate for her," replied Sydney. "I have all the necessary documents here," she added, patting her briefcase. "But I'm a social worker, not a lawyer."

"Fortunately, I do happen to have a close friend who is one," Chuck said smiling. "I'll give him a call and have him meet us at the courthouse."

"Chuck, I don't have any money," Sarah cut in. "How am I going to pay the lawyer?"

"You won't have to. First, he does pro bono work and second he owes me a few favors. If necessary, I'll call one in."

"Thank you Chuck, but there is really no need to go to any trouble just for me."

"It's no trouble at all. And since I have nothing else to do this morning, can I tag along?"

"Chuck is the one who found Sarah on the beach," Ellie reminded Sydney. "He could testify that before the judge."

"Mr. Bartowski, your sister may be right. If you can help the judge form a clear picture of events… Yes, I think you should come with us."

-o-

Not long later, in the courthouse lobby, Chuck, Sarah and Sydney met Mac, whom Chuck introduced to the ladies as a frat buddy of his from Stanford. Chuck had also put on a tie and a jacket over his white dress shirt and dark jeans, which he kept in the trunk of his car just in case he needed to appear more formal. Only his signature Converse sneakers clashed with his formal look.

"OK, which judge are we going to be seeing?" Mac asked after the round of introductions.

Sydney didn't have to consult her case notes before replying. "Judge Ominsky in Civil Division," she replied.

"Uncle Bernie?" Mac enthused, using the nickname bestowed to the judge by the majority of the people working in the Los Angeles legal system. "It's going to be a snap. I'll need to take a look at your notes first, Ms. Prince, as I'd like to be prepared. Chuck only told me that the case is unique and very interesting."

"Of course," Sydney said affably.

Mac took them to a waiting room, where they could discuss the case. He spent some time going over Sydney's notes, asking the occasional question and taking some notes of his own. He also told them about the judge: Bernard Ominsky was known for both being a serious law scholar as well as an inveterate bon viveur and gourmand. He was also an affable person, who spared no effort in trying to help the parties on his cases reach mutually beneficial compromises with as little friction as possible. Given the particularities of the case, they would be meeting him in his chambers instead of having to discuss it in the courtroom.

Judge Ominsky was still in his robes, having just concluded a trial, but welcomed them all to his chambers cordially. He was a rather short but rotund fellow with a receding hairline, bushy eyebrows and a beard. His kind expression and jovial attitude pretty much explained his nickname, which he was quite proud of. Following the introductions, he asked for the relevant documents, which Sydney handed over to him.

"When Detective White called to ask for advice on this case, I was intrigued," he said after speed-reading the first few pages. "I had to do a little digging, but there is a case from another state I could use as a template. It could set a most interesting precedent for the State of California though." He turned to Mac. "What do you think, counselor?"

"Your Honor, I'd have to agree."

"It says here that you know the applicant's first name. May I ask how?"

Sarah rose from her seat.

"Don't get up, Miss," Uncle Bernie told her, waving her down. "This isn't a courtroom."

"Thank you, your Honor. I was able to put my signature on a delivery log. My attending physician, Dr. Eleanor Bartowski, has explained it as muscle memory. It seems I have signed my name enough times to do it mechanically. Unfortunately, my last name was illegible."

Sydney took her cue. "Your Honor, I have an affidavit signed by Detective White. She states that the LAPD was unable to find anything about Sarah in any database they had access to, including DMV, fingerprints and dental records, so all they could do was classify her as a missing person of known whereabouts."

"I see. And you want me to help in establishing her current legal status. Counselor?"

Mac cleared his throat and straightened his blue and burgundy striped tie before speaking. "Ms. Prince and I discussed the case and we agree that despite the loss of her memory and identity, Sarah is a fully functioning person and making her a ward of the State wouldn't be beneficial to her in the long run. Therefore, we request that you issue a court order allowing her to apply for a founding certificate, receive a provisional social security number and identification card, basically everything required to be able to secure employment and live a normal life until she regains her memory or otherwise finds her true identity."

The judge thought about it for a minute. "The request sounds reasonable and I see no reason not to grant it. There are some technical issues though and I would like to discuss them with you before formally granting the request." He browsed through the documents again, and even asked Chuck a couple of questions about Sarah's state when she was found. Then he turned to more practical matters, especially date of birth and last name, both of which were required for establishing an identity.

"Based on Sarah's X-Rays and MRI, which were taken at the hospital, the doctors estimate she's in her mid-twenties, with the best estimate being twenty-five years old," said Sydney. Both an orthopedic physician and a dentist concur on the estimate. As for a more precise date, you could allow her to choose one, your Honor."

"So be it," said Uncle Bernie. "What about a last name? Sarah?"

"Dr. Bartowski, Detective White and I came up with a list of possible matches to the last name part of my signature. The ones beginning with M or even H are the least likely ones, since we all agreed the best possible match for the first letter is W, but we still had about ten potential matches. I could choose from one of those, should you allow it, your Honor. I just don't know how to make the choice."

"I could help," Chuck piped up. Everyone looked at him. "I have a random generator on my laptop, which I use to come up with character names for the games I'm designing." Seeing the judge's questioning expression, he elaborated: "I'm the CEO of Nebula Games, a company owning several online gaming sites. I could input the names in the program and let it make the choice."

"I like your idea, Chuck," said Sarah. "Your Honor, with your permission, I would like to do it this way."

"By all means, go ahead."

Chuck all but ran to his car to get the laptop and hurry back to the judge's chambers. Before long, the program finished its assigned task and its random selection was flashing on the laptop's screen for all to see.

"Well, Ms. Sarah L. Walker, it appears you have an identity now," said the judge. "Before issuing the court order though, I have to remind you to turn in all your provisional identity documentation if and when you find out your true identity."

"I will," Sarah nodded. "Thank you, your Honor."

"My secretary will have the order typed up and signed by me in about an hour. Feel free to drop by and pick it up."

Sarah thanked Uncle Bernie again and he dismissed them all. He was happy to have been able to help and he also wanted to try out a new steak house that had recently opened nearby.

* * *

><p><strong>P.S.: <strong>Some canon stuff was turned around a bit to fit this AU, so don't be weirded out by them. Everything will be explained in due time.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** In this chapter, in addition to Sarah beginning her new life, we get to meet a couple more key persons in the story. To make it easier to follow, some events were kept close to canon.

Yet again, thank you all for your reviews, suggestions and comments. This kind of support and interest in the story is an excellent motivation to keep updating on time regardless of how much time is available for writing.

* * *

><p>Outside the judge's chambers, Sarah took the opportunity to thank Mac for his help quite effusively. The lawyer was very modest and replied that it had been a case many lawyers, rookies and veterans alike, would have paid to be able to participate in.<p>

"So," Sarah said, turning to Sydney, "what comes next?"

"You heard the judge. The court order will be ready in about an hour, and then I'll take you to start the process of getting you a social security number and proper identification."

"Ladies, excuse me for interrupting, but I just thought of something. Can Sarah get a driver's license as well?" Chuck cut in.

Sydney thought about it for a moment. "Assuming she can prove she knows how to drive, I wouldn't put it beyond the realm of possibility. Given the circumstances, the DMV might even let her just take the standard exam, dispensing with the lessons requirement."

"Until the court order is ready, we could all go for coffee," suggested Chuck.

Sydney checked her watch and Sarah noticed. "Sydney, I don't want to be a burden to you. If you have work to do, just say so."

"As a matter of fact, I could go to the office and get a few things done by the time we need to get back here. You should come with me, I think, since you still don't have any ID."

"Or, Sarah and I could stick around the courthouse and you can meet us back here," Chuck mused. "It's not a problem. I don't have to be at work until around two. This way you won't have to worry about her. I stayed up late last night working and I could use some coffee."

Sydney eyed him critically. She had formed a favorable opinion of him, especially after hearing what he'd told the judge about finding Sarah. The decision was easy to make. "Here is my card. Don't hesitate to call if anything comes up. I'm still legally responsible for Ms. Walker as I can't let her go without some paperwork."

"We'll be fine," Sarah assured her.

Chuck took Sarah to a café not far from the courthouse. It was frequented mostly by lawyers and business people, so it was quiet and comfortable. They gave their order to the hurried but friendly waitress and settled into a comfortable silence. Sarah was the first to break it.

"Chuck, I know I've already thanked you for saving my life and helping give me the first idea of my identity. But I need to thank you once more. You must be a busy man, yet you still came to the courthouse, got me a lawyer and testified before the judge. You didn't have to do all that."

"Actually, I had. When I found you, I couldn't help but feel kind of responsible for you. Devon says it's natural, and it's also the most exciting thing I've done recently. Therefore, there is no need to thank me." He smiled warmly at her. "But you are welcome anyway."

She smiled as well. Their orders soon arrived and she took advantage of the pause in the conversation to think. She knew that she couldn't depend on Sydney for much longer, so she needed a plan. Finding a job and a place to live after getting her new identification documents were on top of her list. The problem was she was going to need a little more help, mostly in getting her bearings. Once this was taken care of, she could become self-sufficient. She decided to start right there and then. "Chuck, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything," he replied, putting his coffee cup down on the table.

"My memory is limited to what happened since I woke up in the hospital yesterday, as you know by now. But you know the city well, right?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded.

"I don't want to be a burden to Sydney for any longer than absolutely necessary. I'm sure there are people needing her assistance more than I do. If you can't answer my questions, it's all right, because I can always ask her."

"Why don't you ask me your questions and we'll see if I can answer them."

"OK, here goes: First, I need to find a place to stay and a job. Do you happen to know where I could find a place? A small apartment or a studio will do."

"I think I can help you on both counts."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I don't mean you have to hire me," she said hastily. "In spite of everything Ellie said about my possible level of education, I'm not comfortable with taking a job where any mistake can cost my employer dearly."

Chuck understood. She was feeling insecure, which was only to be expected, considering what she was currently going through. She didn't know who she really was or what she was capable of and even her last name had been chosen almost completely randomly. "Hey, I wasn't about to suggest anything like that. There are no openings currently in my firm, but I'll definitely keep you in mind if there is one in the future. Sarah, don't underestimate yourself. You are smart, articulate… I bet you could more than hold your own in a demanding job environment. But you prefer to take baby steps for now, right?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I think it's for the best. Now, tell me; what do you have in mind?"

"Back when I was first starting my company, I had to hire someone to help with setting up the offices. He was great at his job and deserved every penny I paid him… but that's unimportant. Anyway, he was from San Diego and instead of making him commute daily, I found him a room in one of the better SRO's in the city. It's not expensive and offers great value for money. It's the Maison 23 residence hotel."

"The hotel sounds great, but if I'm going to get a room there, I need to be able to pay for it."

He smiled and took another sip of coffee, delaying presenting his solution for dramatic effect. "Which brings me to the second part of my suggestion," he said finally. "There is a mall in Burbank, and in fact I used to work summers in a store there. Most business owners know me, so I can ask around and see if anyone needs an extra pair of hands."

She was immediately interested. "What kinds of jobs are we talking about here?"

"Basic retail work, for one," he replied. She nodded and he continued. "There is the Buy More, which is the electronics store where I used to work, Underpants, etc, clothing stores, Large Mart… And then there is also the deli, the hot dog place and the frozen yogurt shop, not to mention Subway. I suggest you avoid Large Mart though, because they have a long running rivalry with the Buy More."

"No Large Mart then," she decided to humor him. "But the Buy More sounds nice."

"I have no doubt you'd be great as a salesperson there, but I can't say the same for the guys working there. They'd be too busy ogling you all the time instead of doing their jobs and I'm not kidding. If you get a job there, you'll be the hottest BuyMorian by a wide margin. Hell, you'll be the most beautiful woman in the entire mall."

She blushed at the compliment. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me… that I remember anyway."

They shared a laugh over the last comment. Chuck was privately pleased to see Sarah able to joke about her condition. All things considered, she was holding up very well. For the rest of the time, until Sydney came to take her to the social security office, she grilled Chuck relentlessly, asking questions about the various stores in the mall. He answered all of them truthfully and she found his answers very useful, especially since they came from personal experience.

The rest of her day was busy, as after getting the court order and saying goodbye to Chuck, Sydney took her immediately to the local Social Security Administration office on Wilshire Boulevard. Thankfully, they didn't have to wait as Sydney had called ahead and made an appointment for them. After explaining the situation, and presenting the court documents, Sarah was issued a provisional social security number card. The paperwork she had to sign once again included a reminder of the requirement to turn in the provisional card if and when she found out who she really was. From there, she and Sydney went to another appointment at the DMV, where she applied for a photo ID card. The young man who processed her application was smart enough to tell Sarah to cover the gauze pad on her temple with a strand of hair so that it wouldn't show in the picture. He also told her about everything she should do to obtain a driver's license and even referred her to an examiner.

As they left the DMV, Sarah turned to Sydney. "Sydney, I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me so far." Seeing the other woman open her mouth, Sarah held up a hand to keep her from talking. "I know you'll say it's your job and I also know you find this case interesting. I find it interesting myself." She let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "At least now I have some form of official identification documents," she added, patting her pocket where her new SSN card and ID resided. Given the circumstances, the judge had added a request to the appropriate office to waive the waiting period for issuing the documents. Alexis' affidavit about Sarah not having a criminal record had helped immeasurably, too.

"You are welcome, Sarah. But, let me remind you, my work on your case is still not done. You may have identification documents now, but you have nowhere to go."

Admittedly, Sydney was right and Sarah knew it. "All I need is a place to crash for tonight. Tomorrow I'm going to look for a job and Chuck told me about a place where I can get a room real cheap. I won't bother Social Services for any longer than I absolutely need to."

"You are never a bother, Sarah."

"Still, if there is anything at all I can do for you today, just say it."

"Come to think of it, there is something. Part of my job as a social worker is to pay frequent visits to a halfway house for women and see if there is anything I can do for the ladies there. Most have suffered some form of abuse or another, or are ex-cons, or… well, you get the idea. The place is actually very pleasant, since some of them have kids with them. I could put you up there for the night, but I could also use an extra pair of hands and since you're volunteering…"

"Say no more," Sarah said. "You just show me what I need to do and I'll do it."

-o-

"Hang on a second," a voice sounded from inside the house before the door opened to reveal a middle aged but still beautiful woman wiping her hands on a dishrag. And then her expression changed to one of surprise. "Jack?"

"Hello Emma. May I come in?"

Emma cocked her head to the side and took a good look at the man standing before her. His dark suit was neatly pressed, but the dark circles under his eyes and the slouch in his stance told her he was beyond tired. In fact, he looked older than he actually was. She shrugged. "Come in."

"Thank you."

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you. I can't stay long." He looked around the house and took a deep breath. "In fact, I don't know if you'll want to see me again after I say what I have to tell you."

"What did you do this time?" Emma asked suspiciously.

"This time? Nothing. I haven't done anything illegal in years. But apparently what I used to do still comes with a cost."

"You are not making any sense, Jack," she said, inviting him to sit down with her in the living room.

He decided to come out clean and rip off the Band-aid. "When Sarah was in her senior year of high school, one of my, er, jobs in San Diego went south. I was still able to get out of it, but… but the same government agent who arrested me, to protect me, I might add, also made Sarah a job offer."

"Langston Graham, I know," she said smugly.

Now Jack was officially baffled. "You know Graham?"

"Not personally, but Sarah has kept in touch with me. I know more about her life than you think."

"Then you know you can blame me for everything that happened since then."

"Why should I blame you for a choice she made? She can get out any time she likes."

"She… Emma, did you hear in the news about the hostage rescue operation in the Philippines?"

Emma nodded. The drama had been front page news for weeks and it was the first thing discussed on TV news.

"Sarah was on the rescue team." He waited until it sunk in. The plane crash had made the news and it was openly speculated that it had been carrying at least part of the force involved in rescuing hostages from an islamist insurgent group in Mindanao.

"Our Sarah was on the plane," she deduced, her voice trembling.

He merely nodded.

"How is she?"

"I don't know. Langston Graham, the director of the CIA himself came to visit me. Sarah was never found after the crash. I'm sorry, Emma, I'm so sorry." He finally broke down and so did she. They grieved for their daughter in each other's arms, until…

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Jack shot upright. "What the hell was that?"

Emma sniffled and wiped at her cheeks. "That was something, or rather someone, Sarah gave to me about a couple of months ago." She disappeared into another room and emerged carrying a baby in a white iPood onesie. The pink hair band left no question as to the gender. "Jack, meet Sarah's baby sister Molly. I'm adopting her."

"I need to sit down. This is big news."

"Take your time. I'm going to give her a bottle." Right now she had to attend to the one who needed her the most. She soon rejoined him in the living room, Molly drinking contentedly from her bottle. "I guess I should give you some sort of explanation. You see, Sarah had been on a mission in Budapest which went awry. Her team leader murdered this baby's parents for their money. Sarah saved her and brought her to me. She wanted her to have a normal life. That was when I learned what she did for a living."

"Can I hold her?"

She couldn't deny him. "Here," she said, carefully handing over the baby. Molly didn't fuss one little bit, already comfortable in his arms. She even gave him a toothless smile.

"I want in on this, Emma. I wasn't the best father for Sarah and I'm regretting it every day. But for this one… and for you, if you'll let me… I'll be there for both of you. You don't have to answer me right now. Take your time and think about it, OK?"

"You said you are legit now, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"I've got temporary custody of Molly and the adoption hearing is in a few days. I can call my lawyer and instruct him to put you down as an applicant as well."

"I would be honored if you did." He then turned to Molly. "You and I are going to have a lot of fun, aren't we, Munchkin?"

The baby gurlgled and giggled in reply.

"See? We're going to do just fine."

Emma regarded him with an amused expression. "If you are going to help with her, I hope you haven't forgotten how to change diapers."

"As I recall, I was pretty good at it. It was disgusting, but necessary." Then he became serious again. "Graham told me there is going to be a memorial service for Sarah and the other agents who died in the accident and invited me to attend."

She nodded. "Under other circumstances, I would go with you, but I have Molly to care for. It's imperative to keep her under the radar, too. You go and then come back to us, OK?"

"Yeah, I still have a few things to do back East." He got up and gave Molly back to Emma. "I have to go now, but I'll be back."

She watched him leave, and she noticed he was standing straighter than when he'd come in. Maybe they still had another chance. She loved him, there was no question of that and she knew he loved her as well. Maybe, just maybe, they could make it work this time.

-o-

Sarah woke up after a good night's sleep and sat up. Her roommate, a girl named Heather who'd been in prison for theft and released on probation for good behavior, was still asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, Sarah got up quietly and went to the laundry room carrying her travel bag. Since she only had one outfit, something she needed to remedy soon, she'd gone to lengths to keep it clean. She threw her clothes in the washer and followed the instructions on the machine, adding detergent and starting the cycle. And then it was time for a quick shower. She would be done by the time the washing cycle would be over and then she was going to use the drier. Fortunately there was also an ironing board in the laundry room, so she could iron her clothes as well.

Later, she was in the dining room, having a quick breakfast with the other ladies. There was little talking, but it suited her just fine. She didn't want to pry and she thought the others felt the same. Just after nine, Sydney showed up.

"Sarah, can I have a word with you please?"

"Certainly," she replied and followed the social worker to an office. "Has anything come up?" By anything she meant clues as to her identity.

"Unfortunately no," replied Sydney. "But we can process you out. All you have to do is sign some paperwork and you'll be free to do whatever you want."

"More paperwork?"

"I'm afraid so. Also, Detective White faxed me this for you," she said and pulled a printed sheet of paper from her briefcase. "Read it."

Sarah obliged, carefully reading it.

"She said you can drop by the precinct and talk to her if you have any questions."

"Thank you Sydney. I'll make sure to visit her, if only to thank her. But does she really think a private investigator would be more help than the LAPD?"

"You never know. She struck out, but you might get lucky."

"The problem is I can't afford to hire a PI right now. Maybe after I get a job and save up some money…"

"Handle it any way you see fit. By the way, you were a great help here yesterday. I have a feeling we are going to miss having you help around here."

"I could drop by from time to time."

"Feel free to do so. Now, what are your plans?"

"Like I said, I need to get a job, so I'll go to Chuck's office and see if he was able to line something up for me. Speaking of which, do you happen to have a map of the city I could take? I need to start finding my way around."

Sydney opened a drawer and pulled out a city map. "Here you go. Take care."

"I will. Again, thank you for everything." They shook hands and afterwards Sarah left after picking up the travel bag containing her nightgown and slippers. Once outside, she paused to consult the map and set off in the direction of Chuck's office.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This chapter starts with a short time jump as Sarah gets settled in her new life. Don't worry; Chuck and the others are not neglected either. Things may appear to be progressing slowly, but there are going to be interesting developments later. This is just setting the stage.

One more time, thank you for your comments and suggestions. On to the story now!

* * *

><p>"Dammit!" Sarah cried out in frustration as she yanked the mesh basket out of the deep fryer and somehow avoiding getting splashed with drops of scalding hot oil. "I burned another batch!" The ruined corndogs went straight into the trashcan and she resigned to fry some more, determined not to screw up this time.<p>

"Is there a problem, Ms. Walker?"

She whirled around to face Scooter, her twin pigtails flying wildly. He was the manager not only of the Wienerlicious but also of the Orange Orange next door, since they were owned by the same company. "I think there's something wrong with our fryer. I just burned the third batch of corndogs today."

"Did you set the timer?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Of course I did and I also double-checked the settings. Trust me. I did not use the French fries setting for the corndogs. There must be something wrong with the timer."

Scooter deflated visibly.

"Just watch," she said. She checked the timer settings again and also activated the timer alarm on her watch. The fryer's timer counted down to zero, but nothing happened, aside from the beeping of her watch alarm. "It should have dinged and pulled the basket out," she said, needlessly of course, as Scooter knew how the fryer was supposed to work. She pulled out the basket and smiled with satisfaction when she saw the perfectly done corndogs.

"I don't suppose you can fix it," said Scooter.

"No, I can't. Can't you call someone to come and do it for us?"

"I can, but it's going to take too long for someone to come." He was speaking from experience. The last time something had broken down in the store, he'd had to modify the menu, deleting certain items from it for almost an entire day.

"Well, call them already. I have an idea about what to do in the meantime."

"You do?"

She nodded. "All I'll need is some money."

"How much do you need?"

"Five bucks should do it. I'll bring you the receipt and the change."

Scooter nodded. Sarah was scrupulously correct with money, so he reached into the cash register and gave her a five without a second thought.

"Hold on the fort here. I'll be right back." She went out the door and headed for the Buy More across the parking lot. She returned not ten minutes later with a box, which she proceeded to open. Scooter moved close enough to see her take out a kitchen timer shaped like a tomato.

"Smart move, Ms. Walker," he commented. He also made a mental note to thank Chuck Bartowski for recommending her. The woman was a model employee and he agreed with everyone else that she appeared to be way overqualified to be working in a hot dog joint. Still, she was a boon for the two stores he managed. Her looks alone were enough to attract customers like moths to a flame.

"While I was at the Buy More, I also got lunch orders from a few of the people working there," she said and got started on preparing more food. The retro Ferris-wheel cooker was already filled to capacity, so she added more sausages to the bigger revolving cooker. All orders were filled in a short time. Not only that, but Sarah's brief presence in the Buy More brought in more customers who had been shopping in the electronics store and happened to notice the beautiful blonde in the imitation dirndl which consisted of a red skirt with white polka dots, a black girdle and a white shirt. She and Scooter handled the influx of customers in the same polite yet expeditious manner they had become accustomed to.

Much later, her shift ended and she was about to leave after clocking out and changing out of her work uniform and into street clothes. She said goodbye to Scooter and went to catch a bus. An old AMC Pacer stopped right next to her and the driver poked his head out the window.

"Hey Sarah, need a ride? I'm heading to Chuck's and your place is smack in the middle of my route."

"Thanks Morgan," she said with a smile. "Getting chauffeured around beats waiting for the bus any day." She was suitably impressed when Morgan jumped out to open the door for her.

"So, what do you think of the Buy More Plaza?" Morgan asked, starting the conversation.

"I can't complain. Even though my clothes do smell like sausage at the end of the day, I like my job. How is Chuck, by the way? I haven't seen him around lately."

"Me neither," Morgan admitted. "We talked on the phone and he said something about negotiating with a Japanese company to make one of their anime cartoons into an online game – which is kind of awesome, if you ask me."

"Tell him I said hi, will you?"

"But of course. Did he say he comes here frequently?"

"No, how come?"

"Chuck is a BuyMorian at heart. He may have told you it was his summer job throughout high school and college."

"He mentioned it in passing. Fortunately or unfortunately, Mr. Tucker said he hadn't gotten approval for hiring new people, so when Chuck told me about the opening at the Wienerlicious, I took it without a second thought. He also convinced Scooter to give me the first week's pay in advance, which helped a lot. The hotel he recommended is great, too. But do tell me more about Chuck and the Buy More, please."

"OK. Well, he loves the place, so he gets all his office supplies from us. Nebula Games goes through office supplies at quite a rate, so we see him often."

The banter went back and forth until they arrived in front of the Maison 23. Sarah bade Morgan goodbye and also told him to give her regards to Chuck, Devon and Ellie. Over the week or so she'd been working at the Wienerlicious, she'd grown to like Morgan. He was a bit goofy, but overall a very nice guy. He had to be, since he was Chuck's best friend. She took the elevator to the eighth floor and the moment she locked her apartment door behind her, she went to take a shower and wash the sausage smell off of her body. She had things to take care of and she needed to look (and smell) at least presentable.

-o-

"White," Alexis answered her desk phone.

It was the precinct's front desk officer. "Detective, there is a Ms. Walker here. She says she has an appointment with you."

"Yes, send her up, please." Alexis hung up after thanking the officer and settled down to wait for Sarah.

Sarah soon stepped out of the elevator into the bullpen and Alexis waved at her from her desk. Sarah saw her and smiled before making her way over.

"Detective, it's really nice to see you again," she began. "Thank you for sending Sydney the fax with your ideas."

"You are welcome, Ms. Walker. But let's drop the formalities. I knew you as Sarah from the start, so just call me Alexis."

"Sounds like a good idea." Sarah then reached into a bag and produced a gift wrapped box. "I brought you some donuts as another little thank you."

"Well, I do conform to the stereotype of the donut loving cop, so thanks," Alexis smiled. "Sydney also told me you got settled down into your new life. How are you finding it so far?"

"I really can't complain. The place where I live is great, I have a job… Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the PI thing. Since I don't know any, can you recommend someone? It'll be a while before I save up enough money to pay him or her, but at least I'll know where to go."

"Sure, I'll give you a list." She got a notepad and a pen, wrote down a few names, addresses and phone numbers and then tore off the page, handing it over to Sarah.

"Thanks again."

"You are welcome." Just then her phone rang. "White… Yes, we'll be right over. Sorry, Sarah, duty calls." She got up, motioning to her partner to get going.

"No problem. Go do your job."

"Don't be a stranger… And let me know if you find out who you are."

"Certainly," replied Sarah.

After leaving the precinct, Sarah decided to take a walk. In fact, she liked discovering the city and over the past few days she'd managed to learn quite a bit about it. She was also keeping her promise to Sydney about visiting the halfway house (she'd already gone there once). For the moment, she walked aimlessly around, stopping here and there to look at shop windows. Nothing triggered any memories, but she didn't mind. Ellie's words about how easily she could have died instead of ending up with amnesia echoed in her head. She definitely preferred having amnesia to being dead. Who wouldn't? Her hand unconsciously reached for the pocket where she kept her wallet, which contained not only her new identification documents, but also some money, the first she'd made from her new job.

-o-

"I believe we have covered enough ground for today," said a middle aged Japanese man over the teleconference link.

"I'll have to agree," replied Chuck, respectfully standing up before the older man did on his end. "It's a pleasure to be working with you, Mr. Morimoto," he added.

"Likewise, Mr. Bartowski. I know you'll do our anime justice. I suggest we reconvene in… well, that's up to you."

"Rest assured, Mr. Morimoto, not only is it being treated with the respect it deserves, but I'll the final version ready by Monday," Chuck said confidently.

One of Mr. Morimoto's associates whispered something in his boss' ear, earning a curt chastising in Japanese. "Please forgive my associate, Mr. Bartowski. I know that given your reputation you will deliver on your promise. We will be expecting your call. Have a nice weekend."

"You too, gentlemen," said Chuck and signed off. He sighed and sank back in his sinfully comfortable office chair, simultaneously clawing at his tie, loosening it before yanking it off altogether. Doing business with the Japanese could be taxing on occasion, not to mention the time zone difference, which was another thing to consider when scheduling videoconferences. Then he smiled. What Morimoto and his associates did not know was that he had already done a lot of the prep work for the game even before approaching them with an offer to turn the anime into an online game. Even if they eventually failed to reach an agreement, he could at least take advantage of the work already completed and use it for another game.

The front door bell rang and Chuck turned around to look at the screen displaying the feed from a security camera. He smiled when he saw who it was and buzzed Morgan in. "Hey little buddy," he greeted his best friend.

"We missed seeing you around, so I decided to drop by and see how you're doing." Morgan then noticed a bottle of chardonnay next to a plastic cup sitting on his friend's desk. "Hitting the thinking juice again, aren't you?"

"Laugh all you want, but a glass of the good stuff is necessary when you have to deal with Morimoto and his company." He sat back in his chair and propped his Chuck Taylors on the edge of his desk. "How are things at the Buy More trenches?"

"The usual," shrugged Morgan. "Of course, there is the beautiful Ms. Walker who is brightening up the Plaza every day. She sends her regards, by the way, and hopes to see you soon. So, where's the fire? You said you wanted to see me right after my shift."

"Take a seat." He waited until Morgan was seated in one of the comfortable guest chairs in front of his desk. "I kind of withheld some information from the Japanese. The truth is I finished the game the other day. I only need to proof it."

Morgan caught on immediately. "And you want me to help, right?"

"We'll play it on the office intranet," nodded Chuck. "You have tomorrow off, if I'm not mistaken, so you can stay a while. Dinner and drinks are on me."

"Bamboo Dragon?" Morgan asked hopefully.

"Sure, why not? It's been a while since we last ordered Chinese."

The two friends shared a laugh and then settled down to play Chuck's newest online game. From the start, Morgan had nothing but praise for the graphics, the gameplay and the fact that it was entirely hosted in the company servers, so the players wouldn't have to download and install anything. All they needed to play it was a Nebula Gamer account.

-o-

Meanwhile, not wanting to stay cooped up in her apartment until bedtime, Sarah had decided not to go home just yet. So, she indulged in a little more window shopping, at some point pausing in front of a used car dealership. Buying a car would give her a lot more freedom in moving around, but it also came with certain expenses. She really needed to save more money before even considering acquiring a vehicle. Given the situation, she was quite budget conscious, carefully planning her expenses, while saving as much as she could for contingencies.

"Sarah!"

The voice calling out to her was very familiar and she turned around with a big smile on her face. "Dr. Bartowski," she said.

"Please, it's Ellie. You are not my patient now. Fancy meeting you here, though."

"Yeah, I dropped by the precinct to see Detective White and thank her for everything she's done for me. She recommended a few private investigators that she thinks could take my case. The problem is… well, I can't tell them where to start looking. But you don't need to hear about my problems. Say, can I buy you a coffee?"

"I'd love to, but you really don't have to."

"I want to," Sarah said, taking Ellie by the arm. "You'll have to choose the café, though. I'm still finding my way around the city."

Soon, they were seated in a booth in a nice little café. Ellie kicked off the conversation after their orders arrived. "So, Sarah, how have you been since you got out of the hospital?"

"I'm doing well," replied Sarah. "Thanks to your brother and his recommendations I now have a roof over my head and a job. It's not much, but it pays the bills."

"Glad to hear that," said Ellie. "But how do you really feel?"

"Starting over can be hard. I mean, I have no idea what I used to do, what I had to deal with, but from what you've told me I must have been a lot better off."

"You seem to be doing just fine, regardless."

"Well, I'm trying to be optimistic. You never know what the future holds. I do know this though: No matter what happens, I won't forget you or anyone else I've met since waking up in the hospital. I'll say it again: all you guys have been a great help, especially Chuck. Unfortunately, I haven't seen him for a few days, but Morgan says he's been busy."

"He has been staying late at work recently… I'm proud of him, I really am, but I'm also concerned about him."

"You are his sister. You have every reason to be concerned about your little brother. But don't hesitate to ask me for anything I can do to help."

Ellie gave Sarah a grateful look. She could tell the blonde was a very nice person, her misfortune notwithstanding. Indeed, she wanted her little brother to find someone like Sarah for a serious relationship. Another thought came to her. If Chuck and Sarah's budding friendship developed further (and she wouldn't object if it became something else entirely either), she could recruit Sarah to help her in her efforts for getting Chuck motivated to go back to school and finally get his degree.

They sat in the café a while longer, Sarah asking about how Ellie was doing at the hospital, about Devon and generally talking about their respective lives. By the time they parted ways, Ellie had decided to subtly suggest to Chuck to ask Sarah out. If necessary, she would also recruit Devon, Morgan and maybe even her parents to help.

A few minutes after Sarah and Ellie left to go to their respective places, an older couple with a baby in a stroller entered the café and sat down. They wanted to celebrate a milestone in their long relationship. From this day on, they were going to be a family again, the two of them plus the baby. Judge Ominsky had granted their adoption application for the little girl and they were very happy about it. Naturally, their happiness was tempered by the pain of the recent loss of their biological daughter.

A waitress approached them. "Hi and welcome. Can I get you anything?"

"We are waiting for someone," replied Jack Walker.

"I'm right here," said a tall, slim, modelesque blue eyed young woman with long reddish brown hair. "I'll have a vanilla latte, please," she told the waitress.

"The lady will have a cappuccino and I'd like a Bailey's Irish Cream Coffee, please," said Jack.

"Certainly. I'll be here with your orders shortly."

Emma rose and hugged the young woman after the waitress left. "Ms. Miller, it's nice to finally meet you, although I wish the circumstances were different."

"Please, Mrs. Walker, call me Carina. And I agree with you. We should have met under better circumstances." She eyed Molly, who was playing with a toy hanging from the awning of her stroller. "Can I hold her?"

Emma smiled, unbuckling the baby from the stroller and carefully passing her over to Carina. "She's cute, isn't she?"

"When Sarah asked me to help her keep you safe, she showed me your photos. And I must say, they don't do you justice. You are both a lot more beautiful." The baby pulled at her hair and gurgled happily. "Awww," cooed Carina. "Sarah was like a sister to me and I hope I can be a good sister – of sorts – to you, little one."

More baby babble was Molly's reply, making all three adults laugh. They stopped talking when their orders arrived, and only when they were sure nobody was paying attention to them did they resume their discussion, mostly focusing on security arrangements for the family and the ways the DEA Agent could help in keeping them safe. Jack and Carina also told Emma about the memorial service that had taken place at Langley a few days ago.

-o-

Later, after darkness had fallen over the city, Chuck and Morgan were enjoying the Chinese they had ordered from the Bamboo Dragon and making light conversation.

Morgan took the opportunity to scold Chuck over the lack of female companionship in his life. "Dude, we need to get you a girl. You've been working too hard and ignoring basic needs."

"Not this discussion again," whined Chuck. "It's as bad as Ellie's pushing about Stanford."

"You have but yourself to blame for leaving loose ends, bro. Just how difficult is it to take a step back from work and finish the damn degree? On second thought, don't answer that. I know what you're going to say; you have contractual obligations to fulfill, yadda, yadda, yadda. But there is something you can do to deal with the other matter. I told you that Sarah was asking about you today. Why don't you ask her out? She's a nice girl and your type to boot."

"My type?" Chuck echoed.

"Tall, beautiful, smart, nice," elaborated Morgan. "You two would be great together. What's holding you back?"

"It's complicated. Although I haven't known her long, I like her and I'm glad I've been able to help her."

"Then ask her out already!" Morgan exclaimed.

"Like I said, it's complicated. She's still trying to get her life on track and I don't want to get in her way… Also, I'd hate if it looked like I might be trying to take advantage of her vulnerable state just to get her in bed."

"Please," Morgan scoffed. "Not a single person who knows you would think that."

"No," said Chuck firmly. "I'll wait."

"Until when?" Morgan pressed.

"Until she's found her rhythm," replied Chuck without hesitation. "And then we'll see."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Sarah may have become comfortably settled into her new life, but her plans need money to be put into motion. As luck would have it, she's given a chance to make some extra bucks, courtesy of Chuck and Marco (special guest star: Dolph Lundgren). In addition to not owning Chuck, which has been mentioned already, I don't own the anime franchise saluted in this chapter.

And I would be remiss not to thank you all once more for your comments and support. Enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

><p>Chuck turned the screen off and tossed the remote on a pile of files and folders resting on his desk. A smile formed on his face. The Japanese were enthusiastic about the game he'd developed and Mr. Morimoto had given the project his unreserved approval. This in turn meant that he was going to have to start the promotional campaign soon and then the game would go online.<p>

A loud rumble from his stomach reminded him that he'd skipped breakfast in order to rush to the office and be on time for the videoconference with Morimoto and his associates. Ellie had even gone big sister on him when she spotted him rushing out of his place before it was even light outside and told him, in no uncertain terms, to grab something to eat and not wait until lunchtime. Unfortunately, the pantry in the break room was empty and in any case of the stuff he usually stocked there – Oreos, crackers, microwave popcorn Pop-Tarts and Hot Pockets – couldn't be considered adequate breakfast food, with the exception of the last mentioned, so he decided to go out and treat himself to a nice filling morning meal.

He was almost at the door when the phone rang and had to rush back into his inner sanctum to answer it. "Nebula Games, Chuck Bartowski speaking," he said.

"Good morning son."

"Dad? How did you know I was going to be here?"

"A little bird told your mother and in turn she told me. How did it go with the Japanese?"

"We closed the deal," replied Chuck. "I was just about to go out and grab a bite to eat, since I ate the last Hot Pocket yesterday."

"Congratulations on closing the deal. You are Aces, Charles. Anyway, I need a favor, but don't hesitate to tell me if it's too much trouble."

"Go ahead, Dad. I've got nothing else to do this morning, other than start planning the game's promotion. What do you need me to do for you?"

"I need some computer parts. But there is a catch. They are for an old model which I'm restoring for Hartley." Restoring old computers was one of Stephen Bartowski's hobbies. "He wants to use it as a functioning decoration in his renovated office. It's nothing difficult, but I can't find the parts I need online, because it was a relatively rare model."

"No problem," Chuck said smoothly. "I'll go to the Buy More and ask the guys if they happen to have anything in the Cage and, if they don't, they can spread the word to the Nerd Herds of other branches. Just text or email me the specifics about the parts you need. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

"Son, on behalf of Hartley and mine, thank you. I'm sending you an email with the full list right now."

-o-

"Hey, look who's come back!" Jeff Barnes exclaimed from behind the Nerd Herd desk.

"Who?"

Jeff glared at the rookie. "Don't they show the Nerd Herd Wall of Fame to newbies any more? This is Chuck Bartowski, a legend among Herders. Good morning Chuck."

"Good morning Jeff. Say, is Marvin around? Or Skip? I have some things to ask them about."

"So, it's not about a Mac," Jeff mused. It was well known among the Burbank Buy More Nerd Herd that he and Lester Patel specialized in fixing Apple products.

"Nope."

Jeff smiled and turned to the rookie. "Go find Skip or Marvin. Tell them that Chuck needs some help."

"Sure thing, Jeff," replied the newbie and left to find one of the other two Herders.

In the meantime, Chuck was making small talk with Jeff, comparing their rookie times with those of the newest employees and, like true veterans, managing to find fault with the younger generation. Jeff also sang Sarah's praise, claiming the quality of the Wienerlicious' offerings had improved ever since she'd started working there. Chuck smiled, listening to the older man. He could be weird on occasion, but he was a genuinely nice guy, with a good sense of humor. Chuck had enjoyed working with him at the Buy More before starting his own business.

"Chuck!" Skip called out to him. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, Jeff and I were talking about the good old days. Say, can you check the spares stores for me? I need parts for an old computer that may be a little hard to get."

"Just tell me exactly what you need and I'll see what I can do. The Buy More finally adopted the suggestion you'd made all that time ago and now there is a unified database for all fourteen Southern California locations."

"Better late than never, I guess. Here's the list."

Skip took a quick look. "This is… ancient history would be a nice way of putting it."

"My Dad's restoring an old computer and he can't find the parts online."

"Here goes nothing," said Skip and moved behind the Nerd Herd desk, searching for the parts in the system. "Well, you're in luck," he said finally. "We have everything you need right here. Some of the parts are brand new, and the rest are second hand, but functional. Your Dad won't mind, I hope?"

"He won't," Chuck assured Skip. "I'll go pick up some more stuff for the office while you can find the parts in storage, OK?"

"Sure thing, Chuck."

"You guys all earned five stars… again." He smiled at his friends and proceeded to fill the customer comment card. He then did his own shopping, picked up the spares and went to checkout where he paid for his purchases. The pang of hunger reminded him of the need to have breakfast, so he exited the Buy More and went to the Wienerlicious.

Sarah looked up from wiping down the counter when she heard the bell above the door ding. "Chuck!"

"Hi Sarah. I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by and see how you're doing. Morgan also gave me your regards the other day."

"Well, as you can see, I'm doing okay. Not remembering things can be a bitch at times, but I suppose it's better than being dead. Can't complain, though. Maybe one day soon, I'll be able to hire a PI to help me. Do you know what the worst thing about this situation is, Chuck?"

"I haven't been in your situation, nor have I known anyone who has, so anything I might say could be off by a wide margin," he admitted.

"The worst part is not knowing if I have family somewhere, people who miss me and whom I can't miss, because I don't remember them. At least I know for sure I wasn't engaged or married. There was no ring or ring mark on my finger when I woke up in the hospital. Anyway, enough talking about me. What about you? How did the deal with the Japanese Morgan mentioned go?"

"It's done," he smiled. "It took some long hours, but it was totally worth it."

"Really? I'm happy for you. Now, try this." She offered him a corndog. "It's our new breakfast corndog with country sausage and syrup-grafted pancake."

He took a bite and chewed for a few seconds. "Delicious," he enthused.

The tomato timer dinged and she whirled around to take a fresh batch of fries from the fryer. "The fryer's timer broke down," she explained. "This is the best alternative I could think of. I got it at the Buy More, too."

"Smart move," he said approvingly. And then an idea came to him. "I came here for breakfast, but I could take a look at your timer, if you like. It's digital and electronics happen to be my specialty, so…"

Sarah knew that Scooter would like to have it fixed as soon as possible, so she took the initiative and accepted Chuck's offer. "Knock yourself out. I'll go get you some tools." True to her word, she returned with a couple of screwdrivers and a pair of pliers. "In the meantime, I'll make you the Breakfast Special."

When Scooter got back, Chuck was on his knees, checking the connection between the timer and the basket elevating mechanism.

"Ms. Walker, what's going on?"

Sarah looked up from whisking eggs for Chuck's breakfast omelet and smiled. "Chuck offered to fix the timer and I took him up on that."

"Hey Scooter," Chuck greeted without getting up. "I think I found what's wrong. A wire worked itself loose. Here we go." He stretched his arms and reconnected the wire, making sure it was secure. "Do you have any tape?"

Sarah rummaged in a drawer underneath the cash register. "Will electrical tape do?"

"It's perfect for the job." He held out a hand and Sarah placed the roll of tape in it. Finally, he got up and closed the access door. "Give it a try. I'll go wash my hands."

When he got back, his breakfast was waiting for him on a table. The big plate held three breakfast corndogs, an omelet loaded with cheese, peppers, onions and tomatoes, plus there was toast, hash browns, crisp bacon and a nice cup of coffee. "It's on me," Sarah said when he reached for his wallet to pay.

"She's right. You fixed our fryer, so the least we can do is offer you a meal," added Scooter.

"And I still owe you," continued Sarah. "So, if you need anything, be it a meal here, emergency shopping, or whatever, don't hesitate to call me."

"Do you know how you will pay me back, Sarah?" He intended it to be a mostly rhetorical question, so he quickly provided the answer: "Go on with your life. Be happy, no matter what."

"I can promise to try," she said. "Now, eat up. I expect your comments and observations on my cooking."

-o-

Director Graham and General Beckman met once again in the DIA building. The subject of their meeting was, once more, the plane crash. This time, Graham had a stack of reports to give to his NSA counterpart.

"I have the final report on the accident," he announced.

"That was quick," she remarked.

"It was, because we had the survivors' testimonies."

"Care to give me the CliffsNotes?"

"Certainly. The fire that led to the crash was caused by a chemical leak in one of the cargo pallets. It's all in the papers, so I won't even attempt to pronounce the names of the chemicals involved, but according to this, turbulence encountered shortly before the fire broke out caused the containers to rupture in their boxes and when the chemicals combined they reacted violently, causing a self-sustaining fire and fire extinguishers had no effect whatsoever. The fire eventually burned through the control runs to the tail, leading to loss of elevator and rudder authority just as the pilot attempted an emergency ditching."

"We learned an important lesson then, unfortunately at a steep price in lives and equipment: the chemicals need to be transported in improved storage containers and kept separately."

"In a nutshell, yes, General," Graham nodded. "I've also got some good news for a change. The selection of volunteers to make up for the unit's losses is almost complete. Dr. Zarnow estimates it will take a couple more days for the final selection, but once it's done they can begin training again."

"Good. With the mess in the Middle East we may need them. I predict they will be much in demand after their success in the Philippines."

-o-

A couple of days later, Chuck was freaking out monumentally. The first major promotional event for the launch of his new online game was going to begin in little more than an hour and even though he was pretty sure he'd planned it to perfection despite his inexperience in handling such things, he couldn't help but feel anxious. Morgan and his friends from the entire mall had come over to congratulate him to the point of making him feel overwhelmed. Not only that, but the event was going to be covered by every major gaming news site. He sought out the man he'd hired to direct the event. He found him in the tech van, clipboard in hand and a phone to his ear.

"Marco," he called out when the other man hung up the phone and tossed it angrily on a folding table inside the van. "Talk to me, is anything wrong?"

"Wrong doesn't even begin to cover it," said Marco, tiredly rubbing his face with a hand. He was a tall, blond, powerfully built man, but now he looked older than his mid-fifties. Chuck had hired him because he was successful in directing online documentaries and he'd shown interest in the project, claiming it would be a nice change for him. He was also ex-military, which meant he knew the details he needed to pay attention to in order to achieve realism.

"What is it? I'm freaking out big time here. We can't afford to screw up, not now!"

"Rita just called in sick and let me tell you, she sounded horrible over the phone. Her brother is taking her to a doctor as we speak. Rita was supposed to play Kay today. Without Kay, the whole thing goes down the drain."

"Crap," muttered Chuck. "Can't you find a replacement? Call the agency. Maybe they can send another actress to take Rita's place."

"Don't waste your breath, Chuck. I've already called and there is no one available, at least no one suitable for the role."

"Can't you just have another of the girls we have here take Rita's place?"

"Sorry, no can do. We wrote the script for five people and we can't edit it for four in less than an hour..." Marco sat heavily down on a planter and immediately jumped up again. "I have an idea," he said.

"Huh? What idea? Tell me."

"Wait here! I found someone who can make a good Kay." He took off running for the Wienerlicious.

It was Sarah's day off, but she'd forgotten her new, cheap, pay-as-you-go cell phone in the locker room the previous afternoon, so she'd come by to pick it up. She didn't mind the unscheduled bus trips this necessitated, but it got her thinking. Maybe she should go ahead with getting a driver's license and finding a cheap used car to buy. It would certainly give her a lot more freedom of movement, although she also needed to be careful with expenses, especially if she was going to hire a PI, like Alexis had suggested.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

She turned and saw the big guy approaching her with fast strides, also noticing his rather anxious look. "Yes?"

"Um, would you be interested in making five hundred dollars in one day? Wait, this came out sounding wrong... I'm the director of a promotional event taking place here at the Plaza and an actress called in sick so I have to find a replacement in a hurry," he hastened to explain. "Based on your looks alone, you'd be perfect for the part."

Five hundred dollars? For a day's work? It was definitely a lot better than the twelve dollars an hour she was making at the Wienerlicious. Yes, she was most certainly interested.

Marco could tell she was clearly interested, so he informed her that they had less than an hour to get her ready in every respect, so she was going to have to make a fast decision.

"OK. I'll do it," said Sarah when he finished the sales pitch.

"Excellent. Come with me. We need to get you a script and then off to wardrobe and makeup."

"Marco, where did you disappear to...? Sarah?"

"Chuck, hi. You two know each other?"

"I was about to ask the same thing about you two," said Marco.

"We are friends," Sarah explained. "Wait, is this your gig, Chuck?"

"Uh-huh. It's about the game I'm collaborating with the Japanese on."

She turned to Marco. "Since Chuck is involved, I think I'll do it for free."

"Absolutely not," Chuck objected. "You'll be here for hours, on your day off no less, so you are getting paid no matter what you say about it."

"What do I have to do?"

Chuck proceeded to explain. The game was based on the Girls Und Panzer anime, which was about girls practicing Sensha-do – the Way of the Tank, and Sarah was to portray the Saunders College team leader. They even had an original M4 Sherman tank and four other ladies to play the parts of the driver, assistant driver, gunner and loader, in short a complete tank crew. Sarah agreed it sounded like fun, especially with the subtle twists Chuck had been working on.

In short order, she was in the capable hands of the makeup specialist and reading the script provided by Marco. When she also put on her uniform, she was still easily recognizable as Kay the anime character, only, instead of the fresh clean look of the cartoon girl, she sported an M1938 tank crew helmet and her face was covered in dust, grime, sweat and a streak of grease – all done with makeup, of course.

"What do you think, Marco?" Chuck asked the director.

"She's got it down to a T, all right. It's Fury meets Fantasy Island," commented Marco, referencing the World War II tank movie and the sixth episode of the 1998 remake of Fantasy Island, which featured an alternate World War II fought by women instead of men.

Sarah was looking at her reflection in a mirror, marveling at the skills of the makeup artist. For some reason, even the holstered Colt .45 at her hip did not feel uncomfortable. On the contrary, it had an almost familiar feel to her. _Maybe I used to dress up as a cowgirl for Halloween,_ she thought. Marco's approach pulled her from her thoughts.

"Sarah, are you ready for a quick rehearsal with the other girls?"

"I think so," she replied and looked at her watch. "We still have half an hour before the event begins. Do you think we can make it work?"

"The others have rehearsed this already. It's mostly for your benefit."

"Let's do it."

In the end the event was a resounding success. The people from gaming news sites had only praise for the performance of the cast, especially the girl playing the part of the tank commander. They also loved the game itself, which was gritty and realistic, while staying true to the spirit of the anime that had inspired it.

Sarah was both beaming with pride for her performance and humbled by the heartfelt congratulations she was receiving. She was also very happy when Chuck handed her the check for five hundred dollars.

"So, what are you going to do with your well deserved earnings, Sarah?"

"Frankly, I haven't decided yet. I do want to get a car, but first I'll have to get a driver's license. Maybe I'll contact one of the PI's on the list Detective White gave me and see if he can shed some light on who I really am. Thanks to you, I now have enough money to pay him to at least start looking."

"Well, I wish you all the best." He debated internally on whether it was the proper time to ask her out, but somehow it didn't feel right, plus she looked really tired. No, he could do it some other time, he decided.

"Keep in touch," she said and on impulse rose on tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Count on it, Sarah," he said, managing to keep his voice at a normal pitch.

* * *

><p>Next update in 2015!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** First of all, Happy New Year to all of you! Here in Greece, it is a custom to exchange gifts on New Year's instead of Xmas Eve, so consider this a belated New Year's present from me to all of you. It's a bit longer, too and I have a feeling you'll like the developments in it.

Without further ado and with my best wishes for 2015 as well as my sincerest thanks for your awesome support…

* * *

><p>Morgan plopped down in one of the overstuffed guest chairs in front of Chuck's desk and regarded his friend with a calculating eye. Finally, he broke the comfortable silence. "Well?"<p>

Chuck looked up from his computer. "Well what, Morgan?"

"Have you asked her out yet? And you know I'm talking about Sarah. She's totally into you, by the way. That little stunt your event director pulled, hiring her as a substitute for the actress who couldn't make it? She must have really needed the extra cash and she was grateful for the opportunity."

"I know. I was there, remember? She almost didn't agree to work for a fee when she found out I was behind this. She felt, and possibly still feels like she owes me. Do you understand why I am not making a move yet?"

"Aha! So, you're totally into her, too!"

"Buddy, I haven't denied being attracted to her. In this case, however, I think it's best to take things slow. She needs time to adjust and I don't want to be crowding her."

"She's adjusted just fine, pal. OK, so you want to go slow. The Doctor of Love has just the prescription for you. May I?" Morgan pointed to a notepad on the desk.

"Knock yourself out, _Doc_," said Chuck with a smirk and continued his work. "Just out of curiosity, what are you prescribing?"

"The perfect way to test the waters and prepare for when the right time comes to ask a lady out on a date," replied Morgan. "It'll give you both a chance to get to know each other better before taking the plunge." He finished writing, tore the top sheet off and handed it to his friend with an exaggerated theatrical move. "I accept payment in junk food, Chinese and games, just so you know."

"Let me see what you are suggesting, first." Chuck read through the short text. If the changes in his facial expression were anything to go by, he was definitely interested in what Morgan was suggesting. "Not bad," he said finally. "But keeping tabs on her to learn her schedule? That's borderline stalkerish."

"Stalking is such an ugly word," said Morgan sagely, "besides it implies ill intent, which in your case is anything but. Doing your homework would be a more apt description. And since you are usually busy, I can arrange a little something with Jeff and Lester, in their case for a fee."

"Absolutely not!" Chuck objected. "We are definitely not getting those two involved. Jeff is OK when he's sober, which surprisingly is happening more often lately, but Lester is incorrigible."

Morgan gave Chuck an evil smile. "Relax, I was just kidding."

"Very funny," groused Chuck.

"I'll handle the prep work myself. I'll be keeping you in the loop and when the opportune moment arrives, you'll just show up at the mall, go about your usual business and then casually ask her to have coffee with you. This way you'll test the waters and she'll also get a chance to know you better. In the end, she'll find it easier to say yes when you ask her out on a proper date."

-o-

Sarah wasn't feeling too hopeful as she entered an office building. This was the second PI on Alexis' list she was seeing that day. The first one had declined to take the case, citing his workload as a reason. At least he'd been totally frank in telling her that her case had all the hallmarks of a long job. She quickly crossed the lobby and took an elevator to the sixth floor. Finding the office she wanted was easy. The sign "COLE BARKER INVESTIGATIONS" was quite hard to miss.

"Hi, welcome to Barker Investigations," said a tall, strikingly beautiful blonde in a professional suit who'd just finished replacing a file box on a shelf. With such a figure she should be a model, Sarah thought. But then again, many said the same about her. "How may we help you?"

Sarah decided to get on with it. "Detective White of the LAPD was kind enough to recommend Mr. Barker," she said. This grabbed the other blonde's interest. "I should have called ahead and made an appointment, but I was in the neighborhood and decided to drop by."

"Please, take a seat. Mr. Barker will be in shortly. I'm Alex Forrest, his partner."

"Thank you. My name is Sarah Walker… or at least that's the name I go by."

"Is it a stage name, nom de plume, or…"

"No, it was randomly chosen. Perhaps I should explain and in the process tell you why I need your and Mr. Barker's services."

"Well, I'm intrigued. Please do tell, Ms. Walker."

As Sarah was about to start telling her story, the door opened and a ruggedly handsome man with dark hair, brown eyes and a few days' old stubble walked in. "Alex, we can call Mr. Collins and… Oh, hello there." He was speaking with a decidedly foreign accent, Scottish to be precise.

"Collins can go ahead with the deal?" Alex asked.

Barker nodded.

"I'll call him. Meanwhile, meet Ms. Sarah Walker. She didn't have an appointment, but Alexis White recommended us to her."

"How very nice of her," said Barker. "How do you do, Ms. Walker?"

"I'm hoping you could help me."

"Let's take this to my office, shall we? Alex will be joining us as soon as she's done calling a client." He looked at his partner. Her expression told him that Sarah's case sounded interesting, piquing his curiosity as well. They went inside and Barker motioned for Sarah to take a seat.

She did and also took a look around the sparsely but tastefully decorated office. What caught her attention was a sand-colored beret with a winged dagger patch. "You were in the military, Mr. Barker?"

"Special Air Service Regiment," he replied. "I retired a few years ago, moved here and started this business. Speaking of which, what can I do for you?"

"Basically, you can help me find out who I am. I'll explain everything as soon as Ms. Forrest gets here."

"I'm right here," said Alex, entering the office, having finished with the call to their client. She had a notepad with her and sat down next to Sarah. "Go ahead, Ms. Walker."

Sarah told them about having been found unconscious on a beach in Palos Verdes, waking up in the hospital with amnesia, how she, Ellie and Alexis had figured out her first name and middle initial, the list of possible last names and the inability of the police to help, especially without a missing persons report. "And that's just about it," she concluded the narrative. "At least I was able to start living a normal life courtesy of an understanding social worker and a judge."

"It must be hard on you, Ms. Walker," commented Cole.

"You have no idea. At least the doctors in the hospital were able to tell me a few things about my medical past. For example, I'd broken an arm in a bicycle accident when I was around ten or twelve years old. I have no allergies and I must have been exercising regularly, because I am in shape and there were bone markers to support the theory." She handed a sheaf of documents from her bag over to Cole. "My attending neurologist also had me take a few cognitive tests. The results made her believe that in all likelihood I have a college degree."

Cole and Alex exchanged looks when Sarah finished speaking. They nodded to each other. "We'll take your case, Ms. Walker," he said finally. Sarah was visibly relieved. "We'll first contact Detective White to see if she has touched base with any other departments in the State about your case. If not, we will."

"Thank you," said Sarah. "What are you going to need to get the ball rolling?"

Cole and Alex proceeded to take Sarah's picture, tell her about their fee and she wrote them a check for the deposit. They even went to another office, where a document authorizing the PI agency to request information from competent authorities on Sarah's behalf was notarized. She left to go to the Wienerlicious for her shift with a spring in her step. Fortunately, Barker Investigations didn't charge too much, but it was still going to make a dent in her finances. She was expecting it to, anyway. Her plans to acquire a car would have to be put on hold, but she didn't mind about it. Getting answers came first in her book.

-o-

"No, no, no, no, this can't be happening! Crap, it is happening," swore Chuck as soon as the popup error message appeared on his computer screen. He quickly saved his work, shut down the computer, jumped up and ran straight to the cramped storage closet between his inner sanctum and the small bathroom. A look at the inventory sheet tacked on the back of the door confirmed his worst fears, but he still took the time to rifle through his stock of spare parts. Of course, the item he needed right now wasn't there. In addition, it was well past five, so all stores within walking distance would be closed. He was left with but one alternative. Grabbing his car keys, he made sure to lock up the office and instead of waiting for the elevator ran down the stairs to the building's parking lot.

"Yo, bro, why are you in such a hurry?" Morgan queried when he saw his best friend rush into the Buy More.

"Computer problem," he replied laconically.

"Seriously? You finally came up against something you can't fix? If you can't nobody here can, Chuck. You know that. The best you can do is ask your dad to take a look at the problem."

"Morgan!" Chuck almost yelled to stop the bearded man's tirade. "I can fix it. I just need spares, specifically a power module for the mainframe."

Even though he was a salesman and not a Herder, Morgan knew a lot of things about Chuck's mainframe computer. "The power module gave out? What happened to the fancy voltage stabilizer you have exclusively for the mainframe?"

"The voltage stabilizer is working just fine. I checked. There's something else wrong with the module, which I intend to find out once I've pulled it out and replaced it with a new one. And of course the autopsy on the module will have to wait until I'm done rendering the terrain for a new level of a game…"

"Hang tight, buddy. I know what you need." He ran to the racks of big ticket computer parts and easily found the required module. "New delivery," he smiled, brandishing the box. "Listen to this: It will fit every system compatible with the High Performance series, offering even greater reliability, maintenance free, with longer mean time between failures."

"I'll take it," Chuck interrupted Morgan's sales pitch and snatched the box, running with it to checkout. He paid and ran to get his car, almost running down an unfortunate passerby in the process. "Sorry," he called and then stopped in his tracks when he saw who his almost victim was. "Sarah?"

"Hey Chuck," she said lamely, still rattled by the narrowly avoided collision.

He was in a hurry, but he still took in every detail of her. She was wearing casual clothes instead of her Wienerlicious uniform, meaning she had clocked out for the day. "Again, I'm sorry for almost running you over. I wasn't really seeing where I was going. Can I give you a lift anywhere? My car is right here."

"I was going to my place, but as much as I'd appreciate a lift, are you sure it won't be a bother? You seem to be in a hurry."

"As a matter of fact I am, but family and friends always come first. If you don't believe me, ask Morgan."

She smiled. "Let's compromise. I'm in no hurry, so I can walk from your office to my place."

He smiled back and held the door open for her. She got in and buckled up, while he made his way to the driver's side, got in and started the car. "How have you been these last few days?" He started the conversation as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Thanks to you and Marco (she'd never learned his last name, everyone called the director by his first name) I'm doing even better. In fact, I actually hired a PI today."

"You did? That's great! Do you think it's going to work out for you?"

"To tell you the truth, I really don't know. It's still a better option than releasing my photo and recent history to the media with a request for information. Detective White was hesitant to suggest it, recommending we keep it as the absolutely last option."

"Can't say I disagree with her logic. The word is full of weirdoes."

"Yeah… Well, Mr. Barker and his partner mentioned a database called NamUs. They're sure Detective White has checked it already, but they are going to be checking it periodically to see if anyone has entered a missing person report on me. The downside is that someone has to know about the database to enter a report and add a new case."

"This is the first time I've ever heard about it," he agreed. As he stopped at a red light, he stole a quick look at her. She was relaxed in the passenger seat, looking at the stores lining the street and the flow of traffic. She didn't appear to be anxious at all, so maybe she had already found a rhythm in her new life that she was comfortable with. Just before the light turned green, he saw her fish a notebook and pen from her purse and write something down.

She noticed what must have been a questioning look as she put the notebook and pen away and smiled. "Since I'm still getting to know the city, I make notes of interesting places I find by chance," she said by way of explanation. "It also makes me feel kind of like a tourist, which is not so bad, I suppose."

"You are certainly taking this whole thing easier than one would suppose," he said.

"I don't think there's a point in bitching about it or being miserable. Sometimes it's best to play the hand you're dealt." She smiled again and decided to change the subject. "You didn't tell me, why are you in such a hurry?"

"I had to rush to get a replacement power module for my mainframe computer. The old one was in the verge of giving out while I was working on an important job, a job I have to finish today, if I want to get the bonus the client promised for early delivery of the finished product."

"Well then, we can stick with the original plan. I can walk from your office to the Maison 23."

"Or you can come up with me, wait a little until I've installed the module and restarted the rendering program and then we can get some coffee," he said as a sudden inspiration hit him. Being alone with Sarah in an (almost) non-work setting was definitely an opportunity to test the waters.

"Beats sitting at home doing nothing after taking care of the laundry," she replied, her smile brightening considerably. "You've got yourself a deal."

-o-

She'd been to Chuck's office once before, so she knew her way around. Seeing him busy with the dizzying array of computer equipment in the designated room, she volunteered to get them both some coffee from the broom closet euphemistically called a break room. She did pause when she saw the stack of coffee cups in the sink waiting to be washed. At least she found a couple that were clean in a cupboard and busied herself with the coffee maker.

Her experience in the food service industry served her well as she walked into the inner office balancing a tray with two mugs of freshly brewed coffee on one hand. And then she paused at the door. Chuck was looking at the massive high definition screen intently, his brow furrowed in concentration and his lips pursed as he reviewed his handiwork. All the previous times she'd seen him, he'd been cheerful and humorous. She'd never seen how he was at work and it was almost like looking at a different Chuck. Then his face broke into a smile of success and she couldn't help but smile as well. She could clearly see why he was so successful in his business. Finally, she rapped her knuckles on the door frame.

"Hey, you're right on time," he said, giving her a megawatt smile. "I'm done. All I have to do is call the client and email the file over."

"I can see that. Coffee's ready, by the way."

"That was fast. Just leave it over there and I'll join you in a minute." He pointed to the low coffee table in front of the couch, picked up the phone, typing furiously on the computer even as he dialed the number, spoke to the client and confirmed they'd got the file and it hadn't been corrupted during transmission. When he was done, he got up and joined her at the couch.

"Did I get your coffee right?" Sarah asked when he took the first sip.

"Oh yeah, that you did. To be honest, when I first suggested that we get a coffee, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"What did you have in mind, Mr. Bartowski?" Sarah asked flirtatiously – or so it seemed to him. Maybe she did want to flirt with him, just like he wanted to flirt with her.

"I was thinking about taking you to the family run coffee shop across the street. They have an amazing selection of blends and the pastries… Oh man, the pastries are to die for."

"Now I'm positively intrigued. Let's take a raincheck for that today, OK?"

Score one point for the Bartowski Charm. Sarah wanted to go out with him. Time to test the limits a little. "Okay," he agreed. His confidence for the next part was bolstered by both Ellie and Morgan's urging to at least give it a try. "We can do something else instead. There's a new Tex-Mex restaurant nearby I've been wanting to try, but until now couldn't find the time. What do you say, Sarah? Would you like to join me for dinner?"

She hesitated for a moment, and he feared he'd asked her out too fast. "Right now? Chuck, as much as I'd love to accept, after a shift at the Wienerlicious I do smell like sausage. Normally, after work I go to my place and shower to get rid of it."

_Good, she's not turning me down for coming on too strong,_ he thought. "What do you suggest, then?"

"Just give me an hour to go clean up and change. Pick me up at my place in about an hour?"

"Sure," he replied. Looking down, he noticed how wrinkled his shirt was. "I should probably go home and change too. Come on. I'll drive you to your hotel first."

-o-

"You're home early," said Ellie, intercepting him in the courtyard. She'd just finished her shift, so she was still in the blue scrubs and sneakers she preferred to wear at work.

"What can I say? I finished work early and now I want to go change. I don't have much time before I have to pick up Sarah for dinner."

The squeal Ellie let out hurt his eardrums. "You finally managed to ask her out? At least you listened to me this time, little brother! Wait, what are you going to wear?"

He smiled. "I think I can dress myself," he said snidely. Fortunately, he'd taken the time and done a load of laundry and ironing the previous evening.

She let it go, as she was already plotting on getting Sarah to support her in her efforts to make her brother go back to school.

In his apartment, he quickly showered, shaved and picked a green striped shirt to go with dark jeans. Just before leaving, he paused in front of the mirror in the living room and patted his curly hair into some semblance of order. "Keys, check; wallet, check; phone, check," he mumbled and was out the door in a flash. Ellie was nowhere to be seen. Maybe Devon was keeping her inside to prevent her from fussing over his appearance. Not one to waste a good opportunity to escape unnoticed, Chuck practically ran to his car.

In her room, Sarah was feeling refreshed after her shower. Throwing the bathrobe on a chair, she shimmied into her comfortable and sexy black underwear and opened her closet door to decide on what to wear for her dinner out with Chuck. She could describe it as a date, she supposed, which was fine by her. She liked Chuck a lot. Finally, she selected a white blouse with black wavy patterns printed on it, black pants, a lightweight black jacket in case it got cold and her favorite pair of boots. She made it a point to go shopping once a week, looking for bargains as she built up her wardrobe.

She'd just finished doing her makeup and she was running a brush through her hair when she heard a knock on the door. She checked through the peephole and opened the door, plastering a huge smile on her face. "You're right on time, Chuck."

For a moment he was speechless. How did this woman manage to look more beautiful every time he saw her? "Um, you said an hour. Anyway, since you said you feel like a tourist sometimes, I got you this." He handed her a gift-wrapped package.

"Thanks. You didn't have to, though."

"But I wanted to. Go on, open it. I think you'll find it useful."

She did and gasped in delighted surprise. The sturdy box contained a set of drinking glasses painted with various Los Angeles landmarks. "Wow, thank you Chuck. I'll go put them in the kitchen." She was back in seconds.

He offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

She took it and squeezed it lightly. "Let's go," she said. She locked up while still holding on to him and allowed him to lead her to his car.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Here we go, the beginning Chuck and Sarah dating, plus a rather interesting development, which may or may not prove important in the future. They are going to make the following chapters a tad more interesting, I think.

I haven't mentioned it yet, but no beta is being harmed for this, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Please don't hesitate to point them out if you come across them.

Once more, thank you all for your generous and kind comments.

* * *

><p>"Morgan is going to be so jealous that I got to come here before he had a chance to examine the place for the Morgan Guide," Chuck laughed as he and Sarah clinked glasses after another toast.<p>

"What is the Morgan Guide?"

"It's like the Michelin Guide, only it's not as widely known, obviously. Morgan has a black belt in dumplings and adds restaurants that are both easily affordable and offer good food." And the food was good indeed. Chuck and Sarah had decided to share a few dishes instead of ordering their own each.

Sarah was definitely having a great time. But then again, she'd come to believe it was impossible not to have a good time in Chuck's company. "I just thought of something," she said. "You know everything about me, so it's only fair to tell me about you. All I know about you is your job, which you're great at, your sister, Devon, Morgan and how lucky I am to have met you."

"I don't know everything about you, Sarah. Heck, even you don't know about you," he retorted.

"Let me rephrase that: You know everything about me since we, um, first met, which incidentally is as much as I know about myself."

"Okay, that's only fair. What do you want to know?" He leaned back in his seat and smiled, the very picture of openness. And so they talked. She learned about his family being originally from Encino, about how Ellie had helped their always busy parents in raising him, about the occasionally awkward high school years and about Stanford and how he'd started his business. She did raise an eyebrow when he mentioned still having some credits to complete before getting his degree. He noticed. "What?"

She nervously ran a hand through her hair. She liked Chuck, plus he'd been of great help to her, so the last thing she wanted was to insult him in any way.

"Go on, speak freely," he encouraged her. "I've heard it all from Ellie a bunch of times."

"Actually, given what I've learned about you so far, it surprises me that you somehow managed to leave something unfinished," she said diplomatically.

He leaned back in his seat and gave her a smug smile. "Not for much longer, if everything goes as planned." He was being deliberately vague for a variety of reasons. From what he'd gathered, Sarah and Ellie had run into each other a couple of times and he didn't want his new friend to accidentally (or not) blurt his secret out to his sister.

Thankfully, Sarah decided to change the subject. "So far we've covered a lot of subjects, but we left one out. I'd like to hear about any skeletons in your closet… any women…?"

"You have me at a double disadvantage here. I can't ask about the men in your life if I don't want to appear rude or nosy, plus there is no point in actually asking, is there?"

She smiled sweetly. "No there isn't. I didn't think of it that way. But in any case, I am pretty sure I wasn't seeing anyone."

"How can you be so sure?"

"The same way I'm quite certain I don't have any family, or I'm not close to them if I do have. No one has yet gone to the trouble of reporting me missing, remember?"

"Shouldn't you wait until the PI you hired gives you a progress report? For all we know, a report may have been filed and is currently floating around in the system, until it either arrives at the LAPD or this Barker guy gets wind of its existence first."

"With so little information I was able to give him, I should be feeling lucky he accepted my case. So no, I won't be disappointed if he runs up some blind alleys."

"I applaud your attitude," he said. "And to answer your question, there hasn't been anyone in my life recently, at least in the romantic sense. There was this girl about a couple of years back, but it didn't work out. We were both too busy for a relationship, even a casual one."

"You not being in a relationship, be it casual or serious, is kind of hard for me to believe," said Sarah. "You are a genuinely nice, sweet guy and you're not bad looking either. All in all, you shouldn't have any trouble asking a woman out."

"Well, believe it. Despite the success, Nebula Games has been basically a one-man band from the beginning, meaning I was very busy running it. Sure, I've got a few contractors that help from time to time, plus some employees, but the setting up of the sites and the games' design was all done by me. Of course, now that my company is well established in the online gaming scene, I do accept offers to host games other people have designed on my sites. But I'll stop here before boring you to death with the technical stuff of my company's day-to-day."

"Understandable, although I stand by my opinion: You should have at least tried to make time for a little more of a social life." However, a little voice in her head told her it was better for her that no other woman had had the chance to sink her claws on Chuck, leaving the coast clear for her.

_Is she insinuating that I should pay more attention to my social life, including her?_ Chuck thought. _I mean, we've been flirting, lightly, and now it seems we've advanced to probing each other's limits._ "I suppose that could happen… assuming of course I meet the right woman." He also threw a charm smile her way, making it abundantly clear that he wouldn't be averse to a relationship with her if she wanted it.

Sarah smiled back. The moment was interrupted by a waitress, who came to refill their glasses. Still, they maintained eye contact, even as they thanked her.

"A toast," proposed Chuck. "To new starts, however small or big they may be."

"To new starts," she agreed. "Speaking of which, we are almost done with dinner and the night is still young. So this begs the question: Where would you normally take your date after such a nice dinner?"

"As my father always said, most times it's best to stick to the tried and true formulas. I think we could get the groove on at a club. Of course, I'm also open to other ideas and suggestions."

"I like the way you think. And I like you, Chuck. Also, I'm sort of the tourist here, so you know the places we could go to. Surprise me. You've done a great job so far."

-o-

Chuck and Sarah were leaving the club, intending to take a walk and get some fresh air before going to get the car. Sarah had her right arm wrapped around Chuck's left as they headed towards an overpass. She was curious about where they were going, so she asked him.

"I was thinking about getting some ice cream and going to the beach to enjoy it," he replied. "Is it okay with you?"

"The evening has been perfect so far. Ice cream sounds like a good idea, too."

"Glad you think so. I had a great time as well."

"Really? I was afraid this could be the worst date ever for you. Hell, I can't even remember if I have a favorite song or a band."

He laughed, but didn't miss her referring to their outing as a date. "At least you didn't step on my toes when we danced. On the contrary, you are a very good dancer."

"I only copied the other girls' movements," she replied modestly.

"And don't worry. It's the best date I've had in ages."

"By your own admission, you haven't gone out on dates in ages," she pointed out.

"True, but I haven't totally ignored social outings, although admittedly most of them involved more than two people."

"Such social outings cannot be considered dates, unless they were double dates. They weren't, were they?"

"Um, no, they weren't. But some of them involved Ellie, Morgan and certain friends of mine partaking in matchmaking machinations. My brief relationship with Hannah, the girl I mentioned over dinner was the result of one of them." Not wanting to bore Sarah with details, he changed the subject. "Ah, there it is." He pointed to an ice cream truck. "I've been buying ice cream from that truck since kindergarten."

-o-

In the meantime, Ellie was sitting on hot coals. Devon was trying in vain to get her to calm down. "He's late," she repeated for the tenth time (conservative estimate).

"They're probably having a good time," said Devon, snatching his girlfriend's cell phone before she could grab it and attempt (again) to call Chuck. "Why are you so worried?"

"He hasn't been on a serious date since college!" Ellie blurted out. "He's out of practice."

"It's like riding a bicycle. It'll come to him."

"Can I at least call Morgan and talk to him for a while?"

Devon shrugged and dialed Morgan's number on her cell. "Hello," Morgan answered sleepily.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry, but I needed someone to talk to and Devon isn't cooperating."

From where he was seated on the couch, Devon snorted, getting a death glare in return.

"You can call me at any time, Ellie," said Morgan. "What's wrong?"

"Chuck took Sarah out to dinner."

"Come again?"

"Chuck took Sarah out to dinner," repeated Ellie.

"He finally took my advice? Seriously, I love the guy, but he can be a little dense sometimes."

"Tell me about it. I too was trying to push him in that direction for quite a while."

"How did it go? Did he say anything?"

"He's not back yet. They should have finished their dinner by now, right?"

"I'm coming over," declared Morgan.

"There is no need to…"

"No, I want to. After all, I'd love to gloat when he gets back. As to why he still hasn't returned, don't sweat about it. They probably went for drinks somewhere. See you in a few minutes."

Ellie hung up and noticed Devon looking her strange. "What?"

"Congratulations, El. All you've managed to accomplish is light a fire under Morgan's ass as well."

"Shut up. I have hopes for Chuck and Sarah. She's a very nice person…"

"I know," he interrupted. "I've met her too, remember?"

Morgan didn't take long to arrive at Ellie's. Together, the two of them went over all possible aspects of Chuck's date with Sarah. Had he heard them, he'd have been surprised to learn that Morgan had not only guessed the itinerary, but also had figured out which restaurant he'd picked out and the club was actually one of his guesses.

For the moment, Chuck was content to sit on the beach with Sarah as they savored their ice cream. He turned to look at her and noticed she appeared to have zoned out. "Are you OK, Sarah?"

She snapped out of it and smiled at the concern lacing his voice. "I'm fine. I was just thinking too hard. I was hoping the trip here would help jog my memory about the day I had the accident, but so far I've got nothing."

"It'll come back to you," he said, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"I'm scared," she blurted out. "What if the real me is some…?"

"Unlikable person?" Chuck finished it for her. "No chance. You could be driven and focused on your career, but as far as I'm concerned, I've met the real you and we went out and we're having a good time. You can't change your core personality, amnesia or no amnesia."

"Thank you." She playfully bumped him, leaned her head on his shoulder and watched the sand as it shifted between her toes. "It's beautiful out here."

"This where I come every time I need to do some thinking. This is where I decided to start my company, for example."

She let her eyes travel along the beach, stopping momentarily to gaze at the Santa Monica Pier nearby. "I can see why," she said. "It's quiet, yet so full of life." She pressed closer to Chuck, but could not suppress a slight shiver, despite wearing her jacket.

He noticed it. "It's kind of chilly now, isn't it?" He got up and offered her his hand. "It's getting late, too."

"Uh-huh. I don't want the evening to end, but we both have to go to work in the morning." She took his hand and allowed him to haul her up on her feet. She grabbed her boots from where she'd left them next to her. She paused to put them back on when they reached the pavement and then proceeded to his car.

After dropping her off at her place, Chuck was humming a cheerful tune as he parked the car outside his apartment. He was still humming as he fished in his pocket for his keys.

"Where have you been?" Ellie's voice startled him and almost dropped his keys.

"You know where I was and who I was with, sis."

"Dude, tell me you went all out tonight," interjected Morgan.

"Oh, this is a new low for you, Ellie," snarked Chuck. "You called Morgan?"

"You stayed out late, I got worried," she said defensively.

"There was nothing to worry about. Sarah and I had a great time. In fact, we'll be doing it again in the very near future."

This time Ellie couldn't hold herself back. She pulled her brother into one of her (in)famous bear hugs. Morgan joined in without hesitation, happy for his best friend. Devon, who had stayed up reading a medical journal, saw them. "Group hug? Awesome!" He wrapped his long arms around the three of them. "I take it all went well?"

"Better than well, Captain," replied Chuck. "It's going to happen again soon."

"Awesome," he repeated. He was happy, both for Chuck and for Ellie, who now had one less thing to worry about.

-o-

Despite having stayed up late, both Chuck and Sarah went to work in the morning with big smiles on their faces. They'd had a great time together and were looking forward to a repeat. But for now, it was back in their respective routines. In his office, Chuck was going through statistics for one of the sites belonging to Nebula Games and noting that he would have to increase its server capacity, considering the influx of new memberships. He was all for customer satisfaction and the site slowing down from too many hits simply wouldn't do, it never happened to his company. He was jotting down the technical requirements when he had a surprise visitor.

"Mom," he exclaimed, seeing Mary Bartowski enter his office. Instead of her usual suits, she was in jeans and a blouse, meaning she'd taken the day off from work. "What do I owe this surprising visit to?" He secretly hoped she wasn't going to pester him again about Stanford.

"Can't I visit my little boy once in a while?" Mary asked, feigning innocence.

"Your little boy isn't so little any more, Mom."

"Nah, you'll always be my little boy. Speaking of whom, a little bird told me you entertained a young lady last night."

"Ellie tattled on me again," he deduced.

"She was very happy for you. Your father and I are as well. We'd almost given up hope of ever seeing grandchildren from you."

Chuck spat out a mouthful of coffee and coughed. "Mom! Try not to do that again, will you?" He grabbed some napkins and tried to clean up the mess.

"Look son, I know it's too early, but Ellie spoke in glowing terms about Sarah. She thinks she's perfect for you, even with her recent history, and I trust her judgment."

"So far we've only been on one date," he pointed out. "But yes, she's a very nice person, I like her a lot and I think she likes me back."

"I'd like to meet her."

"Just don't do anything to scare her away, OK? I don't know how she'll take me springing a meeting with my parents on her so soon."

"Relax, I was joking," said Mary with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Okay, I do want to meet her someday."

"Someday," he agreed. "When she… when both of us are comfortable with it."

"I couldn't ask for more." Mary smiled. She'd tried to be there for her kids while they were growing up, but not always succeeded. Her job used to take up a lot of her time. Now, however, she tried to be a part of Chuck and Ellie's lives as much as possible without being annoying. She felt she owed at least as much to them both.

-o-

Starting a life practically from scratch could be an expensive undertaking, as Sarah was discovering. She now had health insurance, a retirement fund and was making payments on them, plus she had rent, utility bills and the PI to pay. All this, in addition to acquiring the basic necessities for everyday life, put quite a strain on her finances. To make ends meet, she was forced to work as much as she could, taking double shifts and overtime every chance she got. Scooter, fortunately, was only too happy to accommodate her, since she was an efficient and valued employee. The downside was having limited time to go out on dates with Chuck, but they managed.

In fact, this was their second real date, if one counted out the few times they'd met for a quick cup of coffee and a chat. He'd also chosen to surprise her with a nice gift, hoping she'd accept it. They were having burgers and shakes in the food court of a mall after watching a movie when he sprang his surprise.

"This is for you," he said.

She hesitated. "Chuck, I… uh, I appreciate the gesture, but I didn't get you anything at all."

"Call me old fashioned, but I think you deserve it. I'm getting out of the office more often and that's solely thanks to you. Besides, it's kind of for both of us."

She was definitely intrigued. What kind of gift could be for both of them? His encouraging smile prompted her to carefully open the small box. She found a smart phone inside.

"Now we can talk to each other any time we want," he said, smiling.

"Chuck, this is too much," she began to protest, but he silenced her by raising a hand.

"It's my old phone. It's still very much serviceable and I only replaced it because my Dad gave me a new one." He pulled his brand new phone from his pocket and placed it next to the old one for comparison. "Both were designed by him, and the new one has many features useful for my job that the old one lacked. It's still as good as any of the ones currently on sale though."

She took it in her hands, marveling at the lightness and compactness of the design despite the large screen. There was also a charger in the package, she noticed. "Thank you," she said honestly. "What do I have to do now?"

"You'll just have to select a service provider and choose between a prepaid or post-paid billing for its use. I'll be happy to offer my advice on the matter."

"It will be more than welcome," she said. Putting the device back in its box, she turned to face Chuck again. "Thank you," she repeated, placing a hand on top of his. They looked into each other's eyes and reflexively moved in closer, until their lips touched. Their first kiss was everything they'd been hoping for and more. They knew they'd been lucky to find each other and this was a milestone in the progress of their relationship. Said relationship was surely going to grow and evolve further. But for now, both were content to enjoy their time together.

-o-

Cole and Alex were doing the weekly review of their open cases. He finally closed the last case file after making some notes. "That's it for the week."

"We didn't do too bad," she smiled. It's about lunch time," she added after checking her watch. "It's your turn to buy lunch."

"How does a nice juicy burger sound to you, Alex?"

Her face lit up with a sudden realization. She grabbed her partner and planted a big one on him. "Damn, I love you, partner!"

"I'm not complaining, mind you, but what exactly did I do?"

"You just gave us our first lead on the Amnesia Chick case!" They'd already checked NamUs and also contacted the DMVs of neighboring States, but none had any person matching Sarah's name and photo on their databases, so the case was dead in the water. "Come on, I'll tell you everything after lunch. I'm starving."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **First of all, sorry for being about two hours late in posting the new chapter, especially since I know how eagerly some of you are expecting the weekly updates. It couldn't be helped though. In addition, the next chapter may be posted either on Friday or next Monday, because I'll be out of town and in charge of a polling station for the parliamentary elections next weekend. I hope to have it done by Friday, being the least I can do for you, given your constant and heartwarming support, for which I'm always thankful. Until that time then.

* * *

><p>Scooter came out of his small office to find the place deserted except for Sarah and the new Wiener Girl they'd been training. "Well, ladies, how is it going?"<p>

Sarah was the first to answer. "Courtney's a natural, much better than I was when I first started here."

"I blame it on too many family barbecues," joked Courtney. "But seriously, Boss, I have a great teacher."

"Keep up the good job, ladies. Ms. Walker, I just got a call from the Los Angeles head office. There is going to be some kind of big event here in the mall tomorrow, and we're going to need Ms. Conwell to be ready. Can you two stay longer tonight?"

"I don't have anything scheduled," replied Sarah.

"Me neither and I don't have classes tomorrow," added Courtney.

"Good, then all three of us are staying. I'll say it again, Ms. Walker, I'm going to miss having you here, even though you'll be right next door."

Sarah had been transferred from the Wienerlicious to the Orange Orange next door after the previous Double O girl graduated from college and went home to Montana. Scooter thought that it'd be better to assign Sarah to the frozen yogurt shop rather than continue the rotation of college students. This way he'd have one concern less as the overall manager of both stores. She was glad to have been offered the position, too. As much as she liked the hot dog place, the new job meant that she wouldn't smell like sausage at the end of the day.

-o-

At the same time, Alex Forrest and Cole Barker were enjoying their lunch in their favorite burger joint, not far from their office.

"You know," he said after swallowing a bite of his cheeseburger, "as much as I like American food, I haven't been to a place that would remind me of home for ages."

Alex smiled. "This is one of the reasons we have something called the Internet, pal. We've been working together for close to three years now, right?"

He nodded and took another bite of his food.

"Well, I just so happen to have a list of restaurants selling everything from the fish and chips you Brits like so much to a traditional Scottish pub right here in LA. You must have heard of it. It's called the Tam O'Shanter."

"I have heard of it," he admitted. "But I haven't been there in quite a while."

"Ah, well, we were busy…"

"But if this lead of yours is good, I'm taking you there this weekend. How does Saturday sound?"

"Fantastic."

"OK, so tell me what you've got on Ms. Walker's case."

"When you mentioned the burgers, it just clicked. You hadn't moved to the US back then, so you couldn't have known, but five or six years ago, or thereabouts, there was this TV ad about messy cheeseburgers, much like the ones we're having right now. The girl in said ad looked just like the Amnesia Chick, if I remember correctly. When we get back to the office, I'll try to find the video on the web. If it's indeed her, and my gut tells me it is, all we'll have to do is contact the advertising agency and follow the leads they give us." She smiled at Cole and also stole a fry from his plate.

"Hey," he protested halfheartedly.

She just laughed. "It's an established fact that food off of someone else's plate always tastes better."

"I'm so going to get you for this, Alex."

"Do your worst."

"Later," he said, giving her a look. It came off as half-threatening and half-promising. The two of them had been skirting a fine line ever since they met for the first time and decided to go into business together. He was pretty sure it wasn't mere physical attraction and she probably felt the same. Their constant teasing and flirting was enough of an indication and the kiss earlier the same day... This was definitely something worth exploring in the very near future. But for now work came first. "Should we call Ms. Walker?"

Alex shook her head. "Not yet. I want to make sure it indeed was her in the video before calling her. There's no point in getting her hopes up only to dash them later, is there?"

"But if it is her, we're still giving her the good news, right?"

"Gotta keep the customer happy," she nodded. "It'll also let her know we're actively pursuing the case."

"We are actively pursuing all our cases," he pointed out.

"Of course we are, but letting the clients know is reassuring for them and good for our business."

As soon as they finished lunch (Cole paid, because it was his turn as Alex had come up with information crucial to the case. When he found something, Alex had to buy lunch, this was their friendly competition agreement), they went back to the office and Alex got to work looking for the ad in question. About an hour and several imaginative curses later, they hit the jackpot.

"If it's not her, it must be her twin sister," commented Cole. "You've got good memory, partner. Will you do the honors?"

"Certainly," she replied and called the number of Sarah's hotel room. It went straight to voicemail, so Alex left a message, asking Sarah to call or drop by at her earliest convenience.

-o-

Chuck was in high spirits as he strolled into the Wienerlicious. He'd finished work earlier than he expected, so he had time to spend with Sarah. As he looked around, he saw Scooter and a girl he'd never seen. She was probably the new Wiener Girl Sarah had told him about. "Hey Scooter," he greeted his friend. "Is Sarah here?"

"Ms. Walker doesn't work here anymore, Chuck."

"What? She quit?" Sarah being fired was inconceivable to him.

"More like transferred," replied Scooter.

Before Chuck could ask anything about it, or Scooter elaborate, the bell above the door dinged and none other but Sarah entered. Instead of the imitation Bavarian costume he'd grown used to seeing her in, she was wearing an orange tank top over white Capri pants, a tiny white apron with little orange O's on it, orange All Stars with pale blue laces and an orange headband. "Chuck? What are you doing here? I thought you had to work today."

"I finished early. What are you doing dressed like that?"

"You're looking at the new Double O girl," she replied. "I got transferred. Courtney here is my replacement."

"So I heard," said Chuck, meaning the transfer, and turned to Courtney. "Nice to meet you. I'm Chuck."

"I know," she smiled. "Nice to meet you too, Chuck."

They shook hands and exchanged a few more pleasantries while Sarah was going over some stuff with Scooter. She pronounced Courtney ready to start work in earnest, saying that training the new girl had been very easy. Normally, since her shift was technically over, she would be heading home, or someplace else with Chuck. But now she wanted to stay a bit at the Double O and work a little more on learning the ropes of her new position. "Chuck," she said, "what would you say to a nice cup of frozen yogurt?"

"Um, I'd love one?"

"I thought you would. Come with me."

He followed her to the fro-yo place next door and surveyed the available toppings.

"What flavor would you like? We have…"

"I'm familiar with the flavors, Sarah," he cut her off with a smile, which she returned. "I'll have the biscuit flavored yogurt, topped with M&M's and caramel sauce."

"Good choice," she commented and held up two cups, medium and large sized, questioningly. He motioned towards the large and she got to work making his treat.

"I like to experiment with flavors and toppings. While I was working at the Buy More, Morgan and I would often come here and go overboard on the toppings."

She could picture the scene he'd just described and laughed. "I have no doubt you would. It fits somehow."

"So, when are you going to be done here?"

"Soon, why?"

"I was thinking about taking you for dinner to my place. I want to cook for you."

"Aw, you're so sweet, Chuck. I'll take you up on your offer. And this time I won't even have to go to my place to change." She grabbed her pastel blue zip-up hoodie and looked sharply down when he pointed at her waist. She'd forgotten she had the apron on. "Thanks for reminding me," she said, taking it off and going to the back of the store to leave it inside her locker together with her headband.

They were in his car driving towards Echo Park when he decided to break the comfortable silence and start a casual conversation. "Sarah, what was going on at the Plaza today? People looked, well, hurried."

"Oh, that… well, there's a big event scheduled for the day after tomorrow, about some guy named Tyler Martin."

"Tyler Martin?" Chuck echoed. Tyler Martin as in the Australian rock star Tyler Martin?"

"You know him?"

"I know of him. He's very much overrated, if you ask me, but then again the current crop can't hold a candle to the hard rock and heavy metal legends from the seventies and the eighties. I do consider him to be a serviceable musician, though."

"Scooter said that Big Mike managed to get his store chosen to host the event. I understand it will be a PR thing, with Martin meeting his fans and giving autographs. It was basically a last minute thing, since the original venue didn't work out."

"Wow. I bet Scooter was thrilled."

"He was," she nodded. "Every food joint in the entire mall is going to see an increase in business tomorrow."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Yes. You didn't tell me, what are you going to be making for dinner tonight?"

"Chicken with balsamic glaze a la Bartowski," he replied. "My dad taught me how to make it."

"Is there anything you can't do?" She was definitely impressed.

"So many, many things, especially if you ask Ellie," he replied. "The first thing she'll tell you is how I can't seem to tidy up my place sometimes, but today it's okay."

She could see what he meant when they arrived to his apartment. Her eyes wandered over the place, taking in the living room and the kitchen, which was separated from it by an island counter. The décor was eclectic, ranging from reproductions of classic paintings to landscape and cityscape photography to posters from movies and video games. There was even a display case containing old computers, game consoles and controllers. And last but not least, there was a wooden tobacco store Indian chief.

"That's interesting," she commented.

"He is, isn't he? I'd just launched my first site and wanted to do something, um, unusual with the money I'd made."

"And you bought this?"

"Yes. I remembered an interview where Richard Castle said he has a life-size Boba Fett in his place and…"

"Chuck, who is Richard Castle?"

"He's a mystery writer, one of the best out there. I have all his books. Anyway, I happened to see the Big Chief in a little store in Venice and bought him without a second thought. Sounds silly, right?"

"Not at all," she shook her head vehemently. "I think it was nice."

"Glad you think so. Would you like a glass of wine? I have chardonnay and it should complement the chicken perfectly."

"I'm not at work and I'm not going to drive, so sure, why not?"

He poured her a glass, they toasted each other and then he got to work on dinner, while she stood in the living room, watching as he puttered around the kitchen. He was adorable, working with an apron and – when required – oven mitts on, she thought. She had offered to help, but he told her to relax and let him do all the cooking. As he claimed, only two people in the world could get the recipe right: his father, as the originator of it, and himself.

When the chicken was cooking in the oven and everything else had been prepared, he went to join Sarah in the living room and have a glass of wine until it was time to serve the meal. He found her sitting on the couch, with her phone tightly clutched in one hand and a slightly stunned expression on her face. He was immediately concerned. "Sarah, is everything all right?"

She seemed to snap out of it. "Huh? Yes, everything is fine… I think."

He handed her a glass of wine, which she accepted gratefully and took a big sip. "You know you can talk about it if you want."

"I just checked my voicemail. Alex Forrest, from the PI's office left me a voicemail. She said they found a promising lead." She paused and looked into his warm chocolate eyes, her blue ones brimming with tears. "Chuck, they succeeded where the police failed. I may soon get the answers I've been looking for."

He sat down next to her and wrapped her in his arms. "And I'll be right there next to you if you need me."

She planted a chaste kiss on his lips and burrowed deeper into his embrace. "Thank you, Chuck. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Sarah, we are dating, aren't we? There is nothing I wouldn't do for you… because I love you."

This time the tears started flowing down her flushed cheeks as she raised her head and looked at him again. "You do? You really love me?"

"Sarah, it was impossible not to fall in love with you once I got to know you. You are beautiful, smart, caring and, despite your claims to the contrary, quite funny. So, one more time, because it feels really good to say it, I love you, Sarah Walker… whoever you are."

She kissed him again, this time more passionately. "Thank you. You saved my life when you found me on the beach and now… your love is a very precious gift. Can I let you in on a little secret?"

"Sure, anything," he replied.

"I fell for you after you sent flowers for me at the hospital and before your promotional gig Marco hired me for was over…" She paused and giggled. "And you've done so much for me. Remember the cell phone you gave me?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"I had already bought a pay-as-you-go plan, so it was easy to put the SIM card into it. I sold the other phone to a college student, so I had some extra cash on hand. I used the money to get you a little something…"

"You didn't have to," he interrupted her.

"I wanted to," she said emphatically. "But I forgot it in my locker at the Double O," she added sheepishly.

"Really? What is it?"

"Nuh-uh, I'm not ruining the surprise," she said with a sly smile. The oven dinged at that very instant, so he just kissed her and went to serve their dinner. The call from the private investigators had put them both into a guardedly optimistic mood. The discussion centered on how they would handle the discovery. Chuck insisted on going with her to see Alex and Cole first thing in the morning. He wouldn't be missed at work, unless something urgent came up.

After dinner, which Sarah pronounced excellent, they cuddled together on the couch and watched a movie. By the time it ended, Chuck had had a bit too much wine and wasn't going to risk driving, so he invited her to stay the night.

"Sure," she replied. "Where's the bedroom?"

"My room is down the hallway to the right, the guest room is right across from it. Take your pick."

"Duh, your room," she said and kissed him one more time. "It's our third date, after all."

-o-

Ellie went yawning out into the courtyard, followed by Devon. They both had an early shift at the hospital, which meant waking up early in the morning. Out of habit, as they went to get the car, she glanced through her brother's bedroom window and was astonished to see two heads poking from beneath the covers. One had a very familiar unruly mop of chocolate hair on it, but the other had a flowing blond halo.

"Devon, look," she hissed, barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"The Chuckster got himself a girl? Awesome."

"Not just any girl," she scolded him. "That's Sarah."

Devon could not resist playing with his girlfriend a little. "Are you sure?"

She smacked him in the arm. "Of course I'm sure. She was my patient. I could recognize her anywhere."

"El, I was just messing with you. Come on. Let's go to work."

Later, Chuck and Sarah woke up in each other's arms. "I could get used to this," he mumbled.

"Ditto," she mumbled back and reached for an oversized t-shirt of his that was draped over a chair. "I'll make breakfast." She smiled. "If you're willing to take the risk, that is."

"Ellie always said I have an iron stomach and she's right. I could go on and on about the junk food binges in high school and college. Do your worst."

Her smile turned into a devious smirk. "You're so cocky, Mr. Bartowski. I'm afraid I'll have to do something about it."

"Right now I'm so hungry I could eat a horse raw, its shoes included."

Breakfast turned out to be great. She'd made a bit of a mess in his kitchen, but everything was delicious. "You're an excellent cook," he praised her.

"I'm afraid I can't take all the credit." She held up her phone. "I was using it to surf the web the other day when I came across this.

He peered closer to the screen and saw the website displayed on it. It was a cook blog, called Emma's Kitchen. "Delicious, healthy and quick recipes," he read aloud. "This lady has certainly got it right."

Later, as they approached the building where Cole and Alex's office was, their excitement mounted. She was practically buzzing with it and she had to pause and take a deep breath to collect herself before knocking and entering.

Cole greeted them warmly. "Ms. Walker, I see you got the message we left you."

"Yes and I'm curious to learn what you came up with. By the way, this is Chuck Bartowski, a very dear friend of mine. Chuck, this is Mr. Barker and his partner Ms. Forrest."

"Nice to meet you both," he said politely. "And we are thankful for your help."

"It's our job," said Alex. "So, are you ready to hear what we found?" When they both nodded in the affirmative, Alex invited them to sit down. She typed something on her computer and then turned the screen their way. "Just watch."

They watched with interest as she selected full screen and clicked play. "What does an ad have to do with anything?" Chuck asked, but was immediately silenced.

"That's me!" Sarah exclaimed, pointing to the screen excitedly. Indeed, the young woman devouring a messy cheeseburger was Sarah, albeit about five or six years younger.

"Unbelievable," muttered Chuck.

"Cole gave me the clue," said Alex. "He mentioned wanting a burger for lunch yesterday and it just clicked."

"Wow," Sarah breathed. "That was unexpected." Then she got serious again. "What are you going to do next?"

Cole took the cue. "We are going to find out what agency made the ad and ask for information on the cast, specifically you. Since we have the notarized authorization to request information on your behalf, it's going to be a snap."

"I appreciate it," said Sarah. "What do I owe you?" She got out her checkbook, wrote a check for the requested amount and handed it over.

"Thank you, Ms. Walker. We'll keep you posted of any developments."

"No, thank _you_," she said with feeling. "You've given me good reason to hope." After some more pleasantries, Chuck and Sarah left the office arm in arm. "Let's go to work now, Chuck."

"I'll drop by to pick you up when you clock out."

"Sounds good to me. We could go to my place."

"Sure, why not. I have an overnight bag in my office, so I won't have to stop at home first."

To be continued, with many new developments and twists


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **As promised, here's the latest installment in the story. Better early than late, don't you agree? It's cliché, but here is where the plot begins to thicken. More familar characters make appearances in this chapter, too. I hope you'll enjoy it, but since I'll be out of town and very busy I won't be able to reply to your comments until late Sunday night at the earliest.

* * *

><p>Although it was still early, the Plaza was a madhouse. People were milling all over the place and there was a long line starting at the Buy More. Fortunately, Chuck managed to find a place to park easily.<p>

"Tyler Martin is really popular," remarked Sarah from the passenger seat.

"I admit he has a following," confirmed Chuck. "But I feel sorry for the guys in there," he added, motioning towards the Buy More, where several Green Shirts could be seen scurrying about both outside and inside the store. Off to the side, news crews from all the major networks were setting up their gear next to their vans.

"This has all the hallmarks of a busy day for me," said Sarah and unbuckled her seatbelt. She was already in her Double O outfit, minus the apron and the headband, which were waiting for her in her locker.

"Do you want me to come pick you up later?" Chuck asked.

"I'll call you, since I'm not sure how long I'll have to stay." She leaned over the center console and gave him a sweet kiss. "At worst, I'll take the bus to your place."

"We need to get you a car, Sarah. I'm serious."

She kissed him again. "You've already done a lot for me."

"At the very least, I can look online for bargains."

"You do that. But first I'm going to have to get a license."

"You will get one, in no time at all, I might add. Call it a gut feeling."

"Why don't you come inside for a moment? I want your opinion on something."

"Okay," said Chuck. His curiosity was piqued and he followed her inside. He waited sitting at a table until she'd clocked in and put on the apron and the headband. When she returned, she first checked one of the machines and then prepared a small cup of yogurt for him.

"Try this," she said. "It's the new coffee flavor with cookie crumbs sprinkled on top."

He accepted it and shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. "Delicious," he mumbled around it. "It's going to be a smash hit."

Customers began flocking in soon and Sarah got to work preparing their orders. Another girl sent from another Double O also arrived to help her handle the influx of people. Chuck waved goodbye at her and went to get his car and drive to the office. He was halfway to the door when…

"HELLO CLEVELAND!" The voice spoke with an Australian accent and it belonged to none other than Tyler Martin.

"Cleveland?" Chuck laughed out loud. "We're in Burbank, mate," he added in a horrible imitation of an Australian accent. Sarah, who'd just delivered an order to a table laughed and bumped him playfully with her hip.

"Sorry…" Tyler said into the mike. Apparently, someone had pointed out his mistake. "Jet lag is brutal and I'm still not completely awake yet. In any case… HELLO BURBANK! HELLO LOS ANGELES!"

-o-

Several hours later, the event was over. Sarah had reasons to be happy it had taken place, because the store had made a neat profit and both she and the other girl had gotten quite generous tips from some of the customers. Right now, she was standing outside the door, watching as Tyler Martin walked around the Plaza, greeting his fans, giving autographs and posing for photos with them. Eventually, he went to his limo and was driven to his hotel. If she expected the throngs of people to magically disappear, she was mistaken. Instead, many of them descended into the food court, the deli across the parking lot owned by a petite brunette named Lou, whom Sarah had talked to on occasion, the Subway, the Wienerlicious and of course the Double O.

When she called Chuck to tell him that she was about to clock out, she was exhausted. He promised to drop by and pick her up. Until Chuck came, she decided to do some cleaning up. June, the other girl, passed her by on the way to the door. "Sarah, I'm going outside for a smoke."

"I'll keep an eye on things here and start closing the place down."

"OK, thanks. I'll be over to help in a… Argh! What the hell is that?"

Hearing June's screech, Sarah rushed outside. Seeing what had scared the other girl so much, she smiled. "It's a dog. You're not allergic or anything?"

"No, but this one is huge!"

Sarah knew the dog and its owner. In fact, she was seeing them frequently as they lived nearby and the latter was a regular customer. "Hi Ilsa," she greeted the woman. "Want the usual?"

"Yes, thank you Sarah," replied Ilsa and handed Sarah some cash to pay for her purchase.

She went back inside and made Ilsa's order, putting it in an insulated to go container. As she went to hand it over, she saw June still pressed against the door frame and the dog pulling on the leash, trying to sniff her. "Don't be afraid of Ivan. He's just a puppy and he wants to make new friends all the time."

"Just a puppy?" June's voice went up an octave. "This thing is bigger than a goat!"

"He's a Central Asian Shepherd. He'll grow even bigger." She squatted down in front of the dog and petted him. He licked her hand enthusiastically and madly wagged his tail. "You're a good boy, aren't you Ivan?"

"Woof!"

"I'll take that as a yes," she laughed and scratched him behind the ears. The next thing Sarah felt was a sharp pain in the back of the head. She cried out in pain and knelt, her right hand automatically going to cover the injured area and screwed her eyes shut. She then felt something soft, wet and warm passing repeatedly over her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Ivan's nose as the puppy whimpered and licked her trying to get her to feel better, knowing she was hurt. There was a circle of concerned people around her, too. "I'm all right," she tried to reassure them. "What happened?"

"It was my fault," said an unfamiliar young man. "I work for a record company and we set up the event. We were packing up when I tripped on a loose paving slab." He paused and pointed to the offending slab on the pavement outside the Orange Orange.

Chuck (When did he get here, Sarah wondered) helped her sit up and look. She nodded.

"And the tripod I was carrying hit you on the head with the spotlight bracket."

"Well, it wasn't your fault," said Sarah.

"How are you?" Chuck asked her.

"My head is ringing a bit."

"I'm taking you to the hospital to get checked up."

"This will not look good on my insurance," she grumped, accepting his help in getting up. She swayed a little on her feet, making Chuck suspect she had a concussion.

"You're not a klutz, Sarah, just a little bit unlucky," he said reassuringly.

"Hang on a sec," she requested. "June, can you please get me a tissue? Ivan is a sweetheart, but I've got his slobber all over my face."

"Sure thing," smiled June. Off to the side, Scooter was mumbling something about calling someone to get the pavement fixed before any more accidents happened in front of the frozen yogurt shop. Chuck was supporting her with an arm around her waist while they both petted the dog, which was back to its usual cheerful, playful, cuddly self now that Sarah appeared to be okay.

"Do I have some competition here, Sarah?" Chuck asked jokingly as he drove out of the parking lot. "Ivan seems to like you a lot."

She shifted a bit in her seat and adjusted her hold on the icepack he'd given her from his car's first aid kit. "He's a very sociable dog. Ilsa is a commercial photographer and she adopted him back when she made a puppy calendar."

"The Naughty Paws animal themed calendars?" Chuck interrupted her. "I know them! She makes one every year. They are funny and in fact she's a bit famous because of them."

"So you do know of her."

He nodded. "She started out as a photojournalist, but decided that the art side of photography had a greater appeal to her. Come to think of it, if I weren't so worried about you, I'd probably have asked her for an autograph."

"I'll take care of that. She's a regular at the Orange Orange, so I can ask her for one."

"Thanks, I'll owe you one if you do."

"By my count, I already owe you plenty, so don't mention it."

-o-

At the hospital, Ellie immediately took over Sarah's case. They were sitting together in Ellie's small office, doing the paperwork after a quick but thorough examination, an X-ray and a precautionary MRI, which she had felt was necessary, given her patient's recent medical history.

"How's your headache?" Ellie asked after they completed the last form.

"Actually, it's not too bad. I expected it to get worse after all the paperwork. It's funny, isn't it?" She had a bump and a slight scratch on the back of her head, but otherwise she was fine.

"I can sympathize. Treating people is what I became a doctor for. Paperwork gives me a headache too. How much did Chuck freak out when you got hurt today?"

"He was concerned, but I wouldn't say freaked out, exactly, at least not from what I saw. I regained consciousness pretty quickly, which helped. From what I was told, he'd just parked and saw me go down. The girl helping me at the Orange Orange for the day said she'd never seen anyone move so fast before."

"Funny. I expected him to go off the chart on his freak out scale, given that the two of you are an item now. I noticed you spent the night in his apartment the other day."

Sarah blushed and looked down.

"Hey, it's all right. I wanted Chuck to find someone and I'm happy that someone was you."

"Thank you, Ellie. You know, he asked me something weird on the way here."

"What did he say this time? No, let me guess… He asked if the knock on your head jarred your brain into recovering your memories."

"How…?"

"It's simple: he reads too many comic books and watches too many movies. This is a recurring theme in a lot of them."

"I wish things were that simple," sighed Sarah. "But no, other than the bump and the headache, nothing came out of it. I didn't even lose consciousness."

"Well, you're good to go. Just don't overexert yourself or the headache will get worse. Also, I recommend no TV, computer games, internet, and the like for the rest of the day. In fact, I suggest you get plenty of rest and avoid alcohol or caffeine. If your headache persists, take some paracetamol and call me immediately."

"Got it. Thanks Ellie. I should be going now. Chuck's probably wondering what we're doing in here for so long."

"I'm coming with you. I want to impress upon him the need for you to take it easy for the rest of the day." She spotted her brother in the hallway, loitering near her office. "Chuck! Come here please. I have a couple of things to tell you."

-o-

It was already dark outside when Cole Barker shuffled tiredly into the office, hanging his messenger bag and his jacket on the coat rack. Alex was at her desk and looked up from her computer screen when she heard him enter. "Well? How did it go? Is she cheating on her husband?"

"Nope. It was a false alarm," he replied, loosening his tie and sitting down.

"So much the better. I hate it when we prove a spouse's suspicions."

"Me too. Well, at least we've got good news to give him and we'll get paid for it. He'll get even better news when she springs the surprise she's preparing for him. I won't give him any spoilers, just tell him his suspicions about her were unfounded. How are things on your end?"

"A whole lot of nothing," she replied. "I've spent a lot of time making calls, but since it was a long time ago, no one I talked to could be of much help over the phone. Looks like I'll have to go to the station and talk to someone in person."

"Which one?"

"I looked in Youtube and other video streaming sites. The ad had the logos of several TV stations, both national and local, depending on where it was recorded from before being posted online. With a bit of luck, the one nearby will be a good choice. I'll ask if they can dig into their records and see what advertising agency had contracted them for broadcasting the commercial. Of course, if any of the people I've already contacted call me back, as some said they might do, we'll go straight to the ad agency."

"Sweetheart, you are a genius, you know that, right?"

"It's good to be reminded from time to time," said Alex with a flirtatious smile.

-o-

"_Moving on to other news, Australian rock star Tyler Martin made an appearance today in Burbank's Buy More Plaza to promote his latest album and in preparation of a concert in Los Angeles. According to Mr. Martin's representatives, more such events will take place in cities all over the country just before the already scheduled concerts. The lure of a VIP ticket hidden inside a CD for sale at the selected stores proved to be an irresistible lure for Tyler Martin's fans,_" said the news anchor. The camera focused on the long line of people outside the Buy More and there was also mention of the golden ticket treasure hunt, which had led to very high sales for the artist's latest album. Also shown were scenes from inside the Buy More and general views of the plaza.

Among the people watching the news that evening was a Latino man with an olive complexion, wavy black hair and a relatively fresh ugly scar on the left side of his face. He was also a guest of the government and thus was wearing an orange prison jumpsuit. Something in the news report caught his eye and he jumped up, approaching the television screen as close as possible, managing to take a better look before the camera moved on.

"No," he said hoarsely. "No, this can't be happening! The bitch is alive!" Unconsciously, his hand traced the scar on his face… a scar caused by a certain blond woman; a woman he thought was dead, until today. Still, he managed to collect himself and looked around to see if anyone else, a guard or a fellow prisoner, had witnessed his outburst. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, so he focused on more practical matters, such as getting out of the maximum security prison he was currently incarcerated in and exacting his revenge on the woman who had disfigured him not very long ago. As a matter of fact, he already had an escape plan, which he was going to put into action later the same night. He'd been working on it for a while, since day one in that prison – and it was good. No matter how tight the security was, someone with his skills and expertise was sure to find a way out.

-o-

Even though Ellie had given Sarah a clean bill of health, Chuck insisted on staying over to keep an eye on her. Although the blow had not been too hard, since she had already suffered one concussion not long ago, Ellie had recommended erring on the side of caution, even though she appeared not to have a concussion this time.

To make her feel better, Chuck had taken it upon himself to order takeout for their dinner and he also poured them both generous amounts of fruit juice in place of the wine or the beer they normally enjoyed. He carried the glasses to the comfortable chairs by the window. Sarah was sitting in one, having changed into her iris blue colored Carole Hochman Midnight Cocktail PJs. She smiled when she saw him approach.

"Sarah," he began.

She cut him off. "If you ask me how I'm feeling and if my head hurts one more time, you're the one who's going to be hurting."

"Shutting up now," he caved.

"Just to put your mind at ease, my head doesn't hurt anymore and I'm fine. What did you order for dinner?"

"I called one of my favorite restaurants, the Bamboo Dragon. I don't know if you like Chinese, but I took the liberty of ordering simple dishes."

"I don't know if I like Chinese either, but since I'm allergy free I have no doubt I'll like the food. I trust your taste, after all."

Their order arrived less than half an hour later and he carried a small table over to put the food on. They decided to eat straight from the cartons and Sarah took to the chopsticks easily. She also declared that Chinese was going to be added to her favorites list effective immediately. The banter over dinner was lighthearted, although she did express her disappointment (in the strongest terms) over his absolute refusal to partake in any sexual activities that evening. He was willing to cuddle, but this was hardly compensation for what she was missing. His refusal to allow her to perform even the smallest task such as cleaning up the table and throwing away the trash was equal parts endearing and infuriating. Indeed, she felt lucky he was letting her walk to her bed and not trying to carry her. Had he tried that she was sure she couldn't be held accountable for her actions, i.e. jumping his bones.

-o-

The following morning…

Director of Central Intelligence Langston Graham walked into his office to start yet another day at work. His assistant and his secretary were already there, ready to give him the first briefing of the day and pass on his orders.

"Good morning people," he greeted his subordinates. "What have you got for me?"

The assistant was efficient and he quickly rattled out facts about events and operations needing his boss' attention. "And this arrived just before you came in, sir," he said holding up a sheet of paper.

Graham nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"It says that Thomas Delgado escaped from the maximum security prison in Virginia where he was being held."

"How did he manage to escape?" Graham asked brusquely.

"Sir, he is a trained agent. The FBI and the US Marshals have already been alerted and warned that he's extremely dangerous and quite possibly armed by now."

"Crap. Was anyone hurt during his escape?"

"No sir. In fact the escape went unnoticed until the morning roll call."

"All right. I would like to see any reports on his escape when they become available."

"Yes sir."

Following the briefing, Graham went over the day's schedule with his secretary and dismissed both her and his assistant when he deemed everything done to his satisfaction.

-o-

Alex Forrest couldn't believe her luck when a parking spot was vacated right in front of her. She swiftly parked and got out, straightening her charcoal grey blazer. Her luck was apparently working overtime this morning, because she'd barely locked the car when she spotted a familiar face. "Mr. Turner," she called out to a middle aged man walking her way with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket.

"Yes?"

"Hi, my name is Alex Forrest and I'm a private investigator. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a question pertinent to one of the cases I'm working on."

"I'm intrigued. Go on Ms. Forrest."

"Six years ago, you were in a commercial for a hamburger restaurant franchise."

"I remember that one," he interrupted her. "We all had a good time."

"Good to hear that," Alex said politely and took a photograph from her briefcase. "Do you recognize this woman? She was in the same commercial."

"Yes, she's a lovely young lady and a very nice girl to boot. Sarah I believe her name was."

"Um, do you remember anything else, like her surname?"

"Sorry, no. It's been a while and we were on first name terms on the set anyway."

She was disappointed and predictably so, but at least her investigation was on the right track. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Turner. Oh, could I please have your autograph?"

"Of course," he beamed at her. He was so flattered to have a beautiful young woman ask for his autograph that he forgot to ask why she wanted to learn about the young girl he'd worked with all those years ago.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **And so we get back to the regular posting schedule for the updates. Things are going to be picking up speed from this chapter on and the heavy action won't be long in coming.

One more time, thank you all for your reviews, comments and suggestions. They are helping me improve my writing immeasurably.

* * *

><p>Alex was sitting at her desk typing up her case notes when a hand dangled a piece of paper in front of her. She reached for it but the hand and the paper swiftly moved out of reach. She finally fixed her blue eyes on her ruggedly handsome partner. "Is it what I think it is?" She couldn't keep the hope out of her voice.<p>

"Yes," he agreed. "This, my dear partner, is another job well done." He handed the check over to her. "We also got a bonus."

She whistled at the amount written on it. "How did it work out?"

"Mr. McDonald's suspicions turned out to be justified. Lucky for him, it crossed his mind that it might be a con job, even though it all appeared legit at first glance, and came to us. He's turning the evidence I gave him over to the SEC as we speak."

Alex frowned. "How did you manage to do it so fast? Usually white collar crimes like that take a while to unravel."

"This is where dumb luck came in," he admitted. "I literally ran into a guy, Jack his name was, outside the Grand Ambassador. As we gathered our stuff from the ground, he happened to see my notes and he offered to give me a few pointers."

"Sounds like this Jack is either a corporate accountant or a corporate lawyer," mused Alex.

"He said he is mostly into commercial real estate now, but he knew his stuff. All it cost me was an hour and some coffee."

"He gave you case-breaking advice for the price of some coffee?"

"A lot of coffee, actually," laughed Cole. "He said he needed it more than anything. He didn't say why at first, although he definitely looked tired, but then I saw a plushy toy inside his briefcase. He looked a bit old to be a new dad, but he is. He and his wife adopted a little girl recently."

"It was a win-win then. You closed the case and he got the caffeine he needed."

"Most definitely. What were you up to when I interrupted your work?"

"Not much," she replied. "I was typing up my notes on the Amnesia Chick case. We hit another dead end, I'm afraid, so we'll have to try a new avenue of investigation."

"Go on," he encouraged.

"The people at the TV station were quite helpful, more so when I made it clear I'm a PI and not a bounty hunter. They dug into their records and got me the name of the advertising company."

"This is great! All we need to do is contact them and ask for information on Ms. Walker."

"And there lies the problem. The company no longer exists. I'm trying to find out if they were bought out, merged with another company or closed down outright."

"Keep at it," he said encouragingly. "And don't hesitate to tell me if you need any help."

She looked up. "Can you please get me a cup of coffee? It'll be a great help."

"I can do better. Since the McDonald case is closed, and we have nothing pressing to do, I'll help you with the Walker case."

"For now I need coffee, partner."

"Coming right up," he replied cheerfully and went to the coffee machine they had in a corner of their office. He returned with two cups and sat down next to his partner.

-o-

Chuck was happily replying to an email from a company wanting to buy advertising space on one of his sites when his phone chimed. The ringtone indicated that he had a text message from Sarah.

"_Hi. You busy?_"

"_Not really,_" he texted back. "_You?_"

The reply wasn't long in coming. "_Slow day. Bored out of my mind._"

He immediately called her, wanting to hear her voice. "Hey. Is it so bad?"

"Not anymore," she replied. She thought,_ Was I always so sappy_? A call from her boyfriend was enough to make her day. And it felt right to her.

"We're having a slow day over here too. I'm not complaining though, as it means everything is working smoothly."

"Good to know," she said. Before she could say anything else, she spied a group of college-age girls approaching the Double O. "Gotta go, I've got customers coming in. See you tonight?"

"Do you want me to pick you up around five? I have some shopping to do at the mall, so we can kill two birds with one stone."

"Sure. See you then. Have a nice day, Chuck. I love you."

"I love you too," he said and ended the connection.

As Sarah prepared the four girls' orders, she couldn't help but feel very lucky and at the same time a little thoughtful. Her new life was a good one and she was happy. But she also couldn't help but wonder what life she'd been living before her accident. Even though she thought that in all likelihood she didn't have any family, not any she had been close to anyway, not remembering occasionally bothered her. Well, she had hired Cole and Alex for that very purpose: to find out about who Sarah really was. The ding of the bell above the door pulled her from her thoughts and she smiled when she saw Morgan enter. He smiled back at her and moved forward to decide what toppings he wanted on his yogurt this time. As he did, he smiled politely at the girls. One of them, a petite brunette, who was apparently having a hard time deciding, looked familiar. And then it hit him. Since she was out of her work uniform, he'd almost not recognized her.

"Hey Alex," he said.

"Morgan, hi. What are you doing here?"

"I work at the Buy More across the parking lot. You've got the day off from the diner, I gather?"

"Yep," she nodded. "I had a busy day at school though. At long last it's over. Ugh, I can't choose. Do you have a good suggestion for the toppings?"

"Sure I do. I suggest the berry mix, which is to die for, plus white chocolate sauce and maraschino cherries."

The girl – Alex – eyed the mix of mulberries, blueberries and raspberries and then looked back at Morgan. "Isn't it a bit much?"

"No, it's perfect to recharge after a hard day at school. Sarah, put her order on my tab, please."

"You don't have to…" Alex began, but Morgan cut her off.

"I want to. Consider it a bribe of sorts."

"A bribe?" Alex echoed.

"Uh-huh. You see, I went to culinary school and I like to constantly try and improve my cooking. So, if you don't mind, could you ask the chef at the diner what kind of spice mix he uses for the buffalo burger?"

"I'll see what I can do," she replied in all seriousness. Their discussion progressed to light flirting, as Sarah looked on amused while she worked. Morgan appeared to be goofy and immature at times, but she'd realized early on that it was simply a mechanism to deal with the tedium of the day-to-day at the Buy More. She could see he was drawn to the girl and she wasn't exactly averse to his advances either.

-o-

To the casual eye it looked just like another building of the dozens housing a huge assortment of commercial concerns and business entities in the area. The comings and goings of people dressed in outfits ranging from business suits to workers' coveralls to anything in-between seemed to reinforce the notion. The truth was rather different. Although it did house offices, servers, plus research and storage facilities, it was a commercial building in appearance only. The heavy security could be one hint that something was off, but then again various concerns such as high tech companies jealously guarded their secrets.

Two men were in one room overflowing with computer equipment. The older of the two wore a neatly pressed and rather expensive suit. His dark hair was neatly coiffed and his – admittedly very handsome – face cleanly shaved. The younger one was the exact opposite, as evidenced by the scruff on his cheeks and chin, the rumpled t-shirt under the unzipped hoodie, the faded jeans and the well-worn sneakers.

"Can you do it?" Clean Cut asked.

"First of all, dude, do you really know what you're asking?" Sloppy shot back and slurped loudly from his paper cup of soda.

"Are we really going to play this game? I was told you are one of the best."

"Not one of the best, I am THE best. I'm sure our, um, mutual acquaintances have made that fact abundantly clear."

"They spared no praise for your technical prowess, but they somehow missed telling me about your big mouth."

"What can I say? It's all part of my charming personality. Speaking of your buddies, I heard on the grapevine that Scarface escaped from prison the other day."

"This is not of your concern right now. My associates and I have invested a lot of time and effort on this…"

"Shaw, there is really no need to repeat your spiel. Yes, I know everything. Your friend Decker was right in bringing me on board." At Shaw's quickly concealed but obvious surprise, the young man chuckled. "And even if he hadn't told me anything, I think I'm smart enough to realize what angle you're all trying to work here. Although, seeing as your buddy can't tell a computer from an espresso machine, I sincerely hope you'll be better able to understand the difficulties I'm going to have to overcome before I finally deliver the goods."

"So you *can* do it."

"I never said I couldn't. In order to succeed, though, I'm going to need a lot more."

"Laszlo, we had an agreement," Shaw began, getting angry.

Laszlo cut him off with a wave of the hand. "I'm not talking about money, man. I am going to need a lot of technical stuff."

"Can't you hack into the databases and find what you need?"

"Oh, I can and no one will ever know I was there, but it's going to take a lot of time, especially if I want to cover my tracks good and proper."

Finally relenting, Shaw sat down on the edge of a desk and pulled a notepad and pen out of a pocket. "Tell me what you're going to need."

"I took the liberty of making a list," Laszlo replied and handed over a few sheets of paper covered in his near-indecipherable handwriting. "Smile, Mr. Shaw. You and your associates will be getting the U Project on the platter for your own nefarious purposes."

"You too stand to gain a lot, so don't screw this up, you hear?" Shaw said and stood to leave. "I'll let you know when I have everything you need." He didn't wait for an acknowledgment before going out the door and heading for the nearest elevator. Geeks like Laszlo Manhovski had a way of getting under his skin, but he needed the little turd to make the plan he and his partners in crime had hatched.

-o-

Manoosh Depak was a young man of Indian descent with a liking for Mexican food, specifically the nacho sampler, an unbridled enthusiasm for shoot 'em up games and a talent for software design. In fact, he'd been a student in MIT but dropped out to work as an independent contractor, a venture he'd had some success in until Stephen Bartowski made him an offer he couldn't refuse and brought him on board as part of Orion Electronics' design staff. He and his boss' son had soon become fast friends, bonding over their mutual love for games, comics and movies. In fact, Chuck frequently borrowed him when he needed an extra hand at Nebula Games.

Right now, he and Chuck were hard at work trying to find out what was wrong with one of the servers, which had started crashing repeatedly earlier that day. Chuck was running diagnostics on the hardware, while Manoosh was looking for any corrupted software. For the moment, their spare server capacity was taking up the slack, but they wanted to get the malfunctioning server up and running as soon as possible.

"Got it!" Chuck exclaimed and motioned for Manoosh to come over and help him pull the heavy cabinet from its position so that they could access its innards.

"What was it?"

"A grounding jumper must have come loose." There had been a minor earthquake early in the morning, which Chuck bet had been the cause of the problem. It hadn't been strong enough to cause even minor damage to the city and its infrastructure, but only annoying hiccups like the one they were trying to fix.

"There!" Manoosh exclaimed excitedly.

"I see it. Let's fix it and reactivate the server before peak traffic time begins."

"The way I see it, it shouldn't take us more than ten minutes to fix it and complete the diagnostics checks, which will leave us with plenty of free time for lunch."

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we going to order?"

"Duh, that's a no-brainer. Which restaurant around here makes a good nacho sampler?"

"When was the last time you had one, dude?"

"Last week," replied Manoosh. "I had family visiting and my mom kind of insisted on handling the cooking and making lunch for me to take to work. .Day. I'm in withdrawal, man. I need a nacho sampler yesterday."

"We are well within the Desperado's delivery radius. I'll give them a call."

"Chuck, you're a lifesaver."

"And don't you forget it, Maneasel! Come on, let's finish this and go to my office."

-o-

Cole and Alex had finally found a new lead on Sarah's case. Right now, they were sitting at a café, interviewing the director of the commercial. They'd still had no luck with what had become of the original advertising agency, so this was the next best thing. If it didn't pan out, they'd agreed to ask around at the Chamber of Commerce.

"Yes, I remember her," he said. "She was a very nice girl. Why are you looking for her, anyway?"

"It's a family matter," Cole replied easily. And it wasn't exactly a lie. Sarah had made it clear that she wanted to know if she had any family.

"I see… What do you want to know about her?"

"Anything useful you can tell us," Alex told him. She held her pen poised above her notebook and looked at the man expectantly.

"Okay, well, her name was Sarah, but you already know that."

Both Cole and Alex nodded.

"I don't remember her last name, but I do recall she must have been a student at Harvard."

"Harvard," repeated Cole. "Are you sure?"

"She came to the rehearsal wearing a Harvard Crimson Jersey," he replied. "Or was it the audition?"

"Harvard it is," said Alex. "Anything else?"

The man furrowed his brow in deep thought for a moment and then his head snapped up. "I can tell you the name of the bank we got paid through, if it's going to help."

The two private investigators were definitely interested. True, banks were reticent about releasing customer information, but they had all the necessary documents, including the notarized authorization Sarah had given them, and given the circumstances they believed they wouldn't face insurmountable problems. Alex jotted down the information, the two of them thanked the man and hurried to go back to the office and make a progress report to their client.

As expected, Sarah was ecstatic at the good news. So ecstatic, in fact, that she felt she had to share it with her boyfriend immediately.

"Hey Sarah," he answered his phone cheerfully.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No, you're not. I just finished lunch, FYI. You have me all to yourself."

"Good, because I have good news and I couldn't wait to tell you."

"Please tell me your memory came back!"

"Um, no, nothing that dramatic," she said. "Cole Barker just called, however."

"Cole Barker… He's the PI you hired, right?"

"Correct," she confirmed. "He and his partner had no luck with the advertising agency yet, but they found the guy who directed the commercial. He was very helpful, even though he couldn't remember my last name."

"What did he tell them?"

"Everyone involved in the making of the commercial was paid through a bank," she replied. "And if a bank was involved…"

"There is a record of the payments made," he finished the thought for her.

"Bingo! All that needs to be done is go to the bank and make inquiries. They said they'll also double-check with the Chamber of Commerce about the advertising agency."

"Which bank was it? I have a buddy from college who is in the banking business. Maybe he can pull a few strings to speed things along for us."

"Wow. You have a buddy who is a lawyer and another who is a banker; your sister and Devon are doctors… You really have someone you can turn to everywhere, don't you?"

"What can I say? I'm connected," he laughed.

"By the way, Ellie was apparently right on another thing, too. Remember when she said I've probably got college level education?"

"Yes. Go on."

"The director Cole and Alex interviewed said I'd come to the audition or the rehearsal wearing a Harvard jersey."

"So, you went to Harvard?"

"It's a possibility."

"Personally, I think it's a worthwhile lead. Tell you what: after work, drop by the office. We'll check the Harvard Alumni Association website and call them in the morning if necessary."

"I'm game," she said enthusiastically. "By the way, did you feel today's tremor?"

"Me, not so much," he replied. "But one of our servers did. I spent half the morning fixing it. This reminds me, I'll need to check the connections and couplings of the entire server farm here."

"I'll bring you some yogurt when I drop by."

"Hang on a sec." He pulled the phone away from his mouth and covered the mouthpiece with a hand. "Hey Maneasel! I just thought we'll have to check all of the connections to make sure there won't be any more nasty surprises. Would you like some fro-yo when we're done?"

"Sure thing, Chuck," replied Manoosh.

"How do you like it?"

Manoosh gave his order, which Chuck dutifully repeated to Sarah, who in turn made a note on an order slip. "Got it," she said. "I'll drop by a little after five. With any luck, Morgan will be available to give me a ride so I won't have to wait for a bus."

"Okay. See you then." It was only as he was about to hang up when Chuck realized that she hadn't told him the name of the bank. "Sarah, wait," he all but yelled into the phone. "What bank was it?"

Fortunately, she hadn't hung up yet and heard him calling out for her. She quickly told him and they ended the connection after he promised to call his friend immediately. They were both enthusiastic, especially since his buddy was working at that same bank, as it turned out.

"Tell me to start getting ready for your graduation party, bro!" This was the standard greeting his friend gave every time he saw Chuck's number on the caller ID.

"Sorry Bryce, but it's going to have to wait a while longer. I'm calling because I need a favor from you."

"By my count, I already owe you a few favors, so ask away."

"It's about my girlfriend."

"You finally got a girl?" Bryce interrupted enthusiastically. "Way to go, pal!"

"Thank you. She has a rather unique problem to deal with and I thought you might be able to help, since she has at one point had a paycheck of hers handled by your bank."

"Chuck, I think I won't be able to help off the record. And I just can't release information on clients, even to you."

"What if she comes to you in person or sends someone with a notarized authorization to request the information on her behalf?"

"That would work. Listen, I'll be working late today, as I want to take the weekend off to celebrate my anniversary with Jill, so why don't you tell her to drop by?"

"I think I'll come with her. It's been a while since I last saw you in person."

"Don't our gaming sessions online count?" Bryce teased.

"See you around six," Chuck laughed and hung up.


End file.
